you have songs in your head. background music to thought.

i always have talking in my head. not the kind of ohh crazy person with voices talking talk, but the kind that narrate. the kind that put everything that happens around me into a slow story.

puts everything into an entry.

as i was gone i started thinking.

maybe im not in love.

she humbles me in a way that no one else ever has.

and at the same time she some how manages to make me feel damn good about myself.

there have been moments with her when i've just... stopped.

everything in me.

everything around me.

everything about me.

it all stops.

when she walks by after a shower and that smell, that... her... is there.

when shes sitting there and i say, or do, something to make her laugh and that little dimple on her left cheek appears.

when i walk up stairs and see her standing there, looking at that or this... i just watch for a moment.

and yet i hesitate to call this love.

why?

because when i look at her again and know that knowledge exists, shared, between us, and its not... returned... on her part, that'll shatter a slight part of me.

and shattering as it might be right now, for other reasons, at least it's privately.

she doesnt need that weight on her.

the sunday before i left i took my grandfather's will to him.

that's a damn odd feeling.

to look over, while you're driving, and see this paper that says, plainly, that, yes, i am going to die. this is what i want done.

fragment sentence right there eh.

and hes not giving up, i know this.

thats the last thing this man will ever do.

but he's always been invincible to me.

the pow. the man with the candy. the man who tells me to make my mom behave.

and i gave him his will a week ago.

i leave with a quote i heard this past week:

when we come out to dance angels hide.