Last day

I woke up at six, seven and nine, unable to fall back asleep. His songs played through my head and I felt that same pain in my chest. This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

We walked for two hours, spent another three still and talking. I feel as if we are closer now than we ever were, as if things continue to progress under the auspices of friendship. He has been nothing but a good friend to me, and there is comfort in that fact. I will miss him.

I hate goodbyes, I hate this leaving, the emptiness of my home and the knowledge that I will never have this again. But it is already gone, and I am grieving for something that I have already lost. That somehow makes it easier, knowing that there is no way to hold on to this anymore. I almost want it all to be over, to release the tension in my chest. I am about to eat my first real meal in two days, having been unable to stomach much more than tea since Friday morning. Its still touch and go, I will be forcing myself to eat and still my shaking hands.

Today? Today is my last day. Tonight my last night. I am so sad.

If I am still online tomorrow I will post again, but otherwise goodbye. This is the end of my time in Montreal. I will keep 'onemoreyear' going until I leave for Oxford in the fall, but it will never be this way again. Vancouver doesn't lend itself well to journals.

Farewell, and take care.