He left me again with this hopeless feeling of loneliness and longing and dreams of those dresses… and not just because I knew I was lonesome although not alone.
It’s just me and this silent wordless passion is maybe what really separates us in all our similarity. I am not as loud and more mind than body I guess that’s why I am here at home where the words are everything.
In the old days, if someone had a secret they didn't want to share they went up a mountain, found a tree, carved a hole in it, and whispered the secret into the hole. Then they covered it with mud. And leave the secret there forever.
So he left me and still I will be back in this hotel room in Honkong waiting for days of being wild.
I love him so.
