I've spent so much time lying awake next to sleeping people I love. It shouldn't be so lonely, but it is. At least he's here. But I'm crying.
The doorbell went at eight this morning, delivering a framed print of Apollos (see entry a couple of days ago); from Denny. It's down here with me now because it looks like him, only its eyes are open.
~weak smile~ I guess I'll go and tape things for the party. Space songs. Yes.
And try to get frighteningly intense bird-of-prey eyes out of my head.
Two sets of them.