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And I don’t know if anyone would believe it

But when the day turns to night

And all I see is a speck of light

Darker shades come out to take my soul away

His words literally take my breath away Not only because of their eloquence, but because they are so co and knowing things that other people can’t My heart hurts to wonder what it was he was feeling when he wrote this What had been happening in his life? And was it happening when I ith him? I read the second and final verse, which is shorter than the first, only two lines:

So if I should act a little strange today,

Well you should know that I cannot control these mysterious ways

I would kill to knohat had been going on in his head What kind of deer to the page, and let it drift over the indentations made from his pen Matthew’s hand had created those marks, had written those words on this paper His heart had still been beating in his chest, he had been breathing in air, and he had been living Soain Will him back to life

I hesitate before turning the page, and then falter,to my side I don?

??t want to read this notepad full of words all at once If I can drag out h I still have so I have not yet discovered about hi how many there are, two-hundred perhaps Does that mean I have two-hundred more instances whereby I can experience his existence? Two-hundred coone fro as I possibly can Because once they are gone, he will be gone as well Never ever to be new again

I close the book over and place it back in the shoe box I don’t dare to touch his last note The very last thing he had written It’s wrapped in soing e a thing, I place the box back inside the drawer and close it over, handling it as one would a new born baby, with a mixture of love and fear

On Sunday I wake up to the sound of , but I simply put my pillow over my head and refuse to answer it That’s basically the pattern of the entire day My phone rings and I ignore it Again and again There are knocks on nore those too My body is lethargic andfroh I’ as I’nore the vampires and the slayers until they fade away

It’s not until nine o’clock that night that I finally bring et out of bed, and that’s only becauseout for sustenance I stumble into the kitchen and put a ready ledead that you cannot even bear to enter into anything more complicated when it comes to food preparation than to stick a box into another box and then hit a few buttons

Standing there, watching the food spin around and around inside of theand ing in my own self-pity My hips are as stiff as a board andon it When I hear the beep I retrieve rab a fork and sit down in front of the television The only halfway decent thing on is Murder She Wrote so I settle for the adventures of Angela Lansbury She’s on the set of soet shot or stabbed or murdered in some way

I know, I knohat a God-aay to spend an evening Eating a ready hties Jesus, even hanging out with the vampires would be better than this I mean, some horror fans would even be ecstatic to discover that the s actually exist