vagabondprophet:

Dear Diary  March 15th 2018

I need to talk to somebody. I’m going to lose my mind soon, maybe I should start talking to Joshua again soon, maybe I should write Liz again. Writing Liz took so much out of me the last time I wrote her, pouring out all my emotions knowing with certainty I will not get a reply. Josh, I was so mad at Josh for suggesting that Liz might not be faithful to me. I’m trying to look at this from his perspective, seeing a wife that won’t talk to her husband, won’t let her kids do the same, and won’t talk to her husband’s friends either. If I really focus on that I guess thinking there’s more going on than I can see isn’t exactly ridiculous, but what does that help? I love her and I believe she loves me and would remain faithful. If I let myself think otherwise I think I would totally lose hope. It’s hard to keep hoping, but I still look forward to getting out of here and going to see her even if she is furious and she hasn’t talked to me in a long time. Just that face, with it’s smooth skin and sharp lines and dark eyes, it’s still the one I see when I close my eyes and try to ignore where I am. I can almost forget I’m in a bunk bed above Kal when I focus on her, just the image of her doing something normal like cracking eggs into a pan. Sometimes I think of her wearing my baggy t-shirts while making pancakes on a Saturday morning. Everytime it manages to sneak a ray of joy and hope into my day no matter how bleak it has been. I hope it doesn’t get taken from me as contraband.

Did Joshua have a reason for thinking that about her? Maybe I should ask him. Not talking to anybody on the outside is worse than getting bad news from people on the outside I’m finding. When I think of how being ignored like this makes me feel I fall into a vivid daydream. I’m in the dark in a mountain valley, before the light withers I see tall mountains crowded tightly and high above me. After night falls and before I try to sleep I shout so I can hear the echo of my voice off of the mountains so I can feel like I’m not alone. No echo comes, nothing at all. My voice just disappears as soon as it leaves my lips, falling dead to the ground like a flower gone dry and tossed by a wicked wind. It wasn’t quite like I was mute, I could hear the sounds come out of my mouth, but they just never mattered and never got far. As if they were sterile, unable to father meaningful sound and just remaining mindless noise. Where did the hills go? What killed my voice? Questions, all I have is questions, even in my daydreams.