I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks. I work until I am tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the leaves all day. Everything seems simple until you think about it. Why is love intensified by absence?

Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for her. She vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait for her. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has she gone where I cannot follow?