Up in smoke

A new day, new prospects, new hope. I can progress. I need to relax.

He tells me that I had demons to burn. I think he's right. They've been coming back now and again, because I've thought of this or that, or something that I remember seeing at his house. Something that made me wonder if he (and I) were able to progress together. I guess it's all gone now. I can't ask for any more. There's nothing more of which to rid myself.

He sent me 2 cards that reminded me of the South, my favorite place on earth. Lavender and street cats. It reminded me of Arles, and my dear Provence. He always knows what makes me happy. I can guess at what makes him happy.

I think I've been frustrated recently because of the internet communication. I talk first, I don't receive an adequate response, and that leads me to try to communicate more to elicit a response. Of course, it doesn't work because then he gets annoyed and stops talking. We need to find a better way. Letters. Paper. photos. something other than words on a screen. Gabriel...et pour te parler, il faut des mots sur un écran. J'en ai tellement besoin--m'exprimer. C'est la seule façon pour moi de vider mon esprit. S'il ne peut pas tout absorber, je dois essayer de trouver un autre récipient de pensées. Même avec un journal en papier et un journal numérique, des chansons et des pages de photos...tout cela ne suffit pas. Parler--voilà ce qui me manque parfois. Ce n'est pas toujours à lui à m'écouter. Pinky?

Anyway, it is up in smoke. The past isn't dead or denied. It's just past, and we are working on clearing the land for a new life.

Ever onward, darling wind.