The day is fast gone and here I am, a lone thinker; silhouette against my realities and swimming willingly, the black foaming ocean in the recesses of my mind. I have loved, or I think I have. Now it’s not so clear anymore. I feel a mosquito buzz idly around my ears and I sigh. The day has been well spent, pondering and calculating odds that have passed. I know that I am stalling on me. It is easier to pace and calculate positive possibilities, ethereal – conceived places where love was given a chance. But I know what would come soon. And I am calmly willing myself to be strong for the storm. Tomorrow maybe, not today, I assure myself. But I know that when I sleep, I might see her face, glowing slightly with the many lights of good memories, which would soon extinguish one by one, until she turns and tells me – in a voice inhuman and nothing like hers – it’s over.