Man Walks Into A Room made me feel so lonely, but there was a certain beauty to that loneliness. To know that others are lonely inside themselves also, and that this is in a way necessary and inevitable. To know that you can never truly know another. To know that empathy isn't completely possible, and that if it were, it might be miserable.

There are so many books I need to re-read to understand fully. The first time around seems more like an exposition, like a skimming and a taste. The second feels like a study.

Have been trying to keep my mind and body busy. Active and somewhat healthy. There are still some ridiculous things I do. Think. Consume. But I'm trying to exercise a certain degree of control in other areas.

I miss her. Not my things, but her. Not how she acts, but her. For the first time in two weeks, I've considered knocking only to hug her, tell her I love her and miss her. And leave. No negotiations or discussions (heh). No logistics or reasoning. It's all beside the point.