9-11-08

He's going away; tomorow. Then that's it for us, for him. Dan. Leaving, gone from my future. If only it was also my mind. He intends to die, that is his aim though I refuse to believe it. He's tried to have me accept the money that will come of it but truthfully, how could I? What could ten thousand dollars compare to the loss of Dan.

It doesn't.

Nothing does.

Six years; it's not so impressive really. Six years is barely long enough to begin to make a sense of self. It's still painful to lose it. We were so close once, but that bond has been stretched and burned by both of us many times over. That pain, a misery, a blinding desire, the hate and love that has always binded us. Now, a day before he leaves, we linger on the past trying to hold on to light hearted dreams. Fools. We know that there is no more, only this final clinging fear to the unknown, wanting so much to blend into the past as we once dreamed it to be.

We counted out the days today, he laughed when I whispered he should just say no. "What more is there for me Zoe? This is all I have left, I don't even have you anymore." It hurt, struck me right down to my soul untill I couldn't respond. He was right, even I am now forbidden from him, from what was never truely us. And not only is this a pain it's a reality. One built by my own hands.

It's the truth of the present that we avoid, and the honesty neither of us may share with the other.

So he's going away tomorow, today is the last I can speak with him. He's packed what he needs, the sparse and little they'll allow while I am nothing more then a nameless picture buried deep within his heart that neither of us dares to mend. I image him going to the plane, bag slung across his shoulder, standing completely alone on the tarmak because there is no one left to stand with him. It's a beautiful day but his face looks a looming storm, trying so hard to be the person they'll expect. He'll never look back, not to see if someone's running to breathelessly whisper a haisty goodbye; the goodbye I would die to give him. He knows I won't come, and I know he'll go. Letter's swim over a journal page as I stare broken at the professor. I am lost here, stuck because I know it's what he wants. Tomorow, somewhere miles away from here, a boy becomes a man and resigns himself to the only option he has left.

Legal suicide.
Go Gaurd.