In the midst of everything that went on today, I was nothing but a sad child in search of someone to hold her.

Crying with my eyes closed: *You* and I lay on *your* bed with the late afternoon sun. For Me, This Is Heaven played while the memories of July 1, 2000, rushed back into my head. I closed my eyes before the tears could come. I saw *you* sitting there next to me, placing the headphones on my ears to hear something before *you* left for New York. I felt the clothes I was wearing, drawstring jean shorts, a black tank top (Libby's), and a grey zip up hoodie. There was the dying sun that struggled to stay in the sky, and it's light so blinding that it made everything beautiful. I lay still on the bed, not flinching when *you* kissed me. It felt like a dream, moreso like the ones I had while *you* were gone. My eyes were closed for minutes before they reopened, and *you* lay hovering above me. This was not a dream. I was sad that *you* were gone, even while you embraced me. I looked at *you* and felt *your thoughts, letting them linger in my head for the rest of the day. Within a half hour, I relived what only existed 8 months ago at O'Hare. It was just us. It was pure emotion.

And the smoke rises from my head, burning my eyes and stinging my soul. I am still a child, with an infinite number of questions that flurry throughout my head. All so simple: what, when, why, how? Yet there is still no answer, and I cannot even depend on myself for the knowledge that I do seek. I'm so very tired and worn out, but it all goes downhill from here.

Is that my plight? I can't bring myself to say it's my own advice I'll need...nowhere, going nowhere... I can only sit here and organize through typing, my thoughts, before I go full throttle insane. *Kiss me*