Vast.

When I look into myself I am peering into an unknown depth. One which has consumed my lifetime with searching. To fill the depths of myself I have been driven to many things, including drugs, sex and rock and roll. What I haven’t been able to appease though, through all of the experimentation, is the profound feeling of fullness that I had expected to accommodate the emptiness. It is always a struggle to find the right words and to take a perspective on the way things have changed, when I am aware of the constant changes we all seem to be enduring. The questions of whether or not any of us are right in what we believe I know now to be fruitless. Or do I? How can one be right when his mind is changing always. I suppose there are the profound rights and wrongs that we all can understand, but even those, I fear are beyond our judgment. Have you never been enticed to something undoubtedly wrong? That, I suppose, is a matter of personal strength, as we are breaking our own moral code in denying the right way of things, and not fooling ourselves into thinking our actions are right.

I paced around my apartment today anxious. I feel, unpleasant. I feel, sad. And I’m not entirely sure why that is. I tried to placate myself with the many entertainments at my fingertips, but they proved to be no substitute for the things that really make me happy. If I could bring to mind the things that would I would scream them out, if only to physically hear it aloud. Maybe then this feeling would dissipate, relenting back to wherever in my depths those feelings come from. But instead it lingers on, and I anxiously await the return of my darling Jill.

It is times like these, these that I writhe in currently, that remind me of the gladness and inner peace I am without. Feelings that I find so readily at the touch of my love. I can hope, and smile, knowing that when I return this evening she will be here, warm, and probably lying comfortably in the blankets of our bed, awaiting me.

Happy birthday, Jill.