I had my dinner... I got up. Or perhaps it was the other way around, I cannot remember. I think it took a nap for things to finally hit me. The loneliness, that is, and for all of a sudden I am left trapped beneath my comforters, my limbs as lethargic and numb as they were that day I got bitten by a venomous spider of the unknown or unidentified tropical kind. I don't know how I did it but eventually I got out... and then I had my dinner. In that order. No other. It seemed like it happened so long ago, the soft sand between our toes, the warmth of the tropical seas caressing the sunburnt skin of our backs... those nights when we would crawl together into the single bed and hug each other into the soft throes of slumber... it was all like some sweet-sweet dream, and today's the day that dreaming ends. But maybe I was looking at it wrong... after all, one week is a pretty short time right? Too short to have such fatalistic thoughts... and then perhaps in less than seven days, these halls will be full of life again, full of the sound of your laughter. Those paintings and drawings I left on the wall would once again come to life... the plants seem less lack-lustre... maybe this is the dream... and your return is when I wake up. But like all terrible things we experience in life, they seem to go on for ages and ages. I can't believe its just 9.45... for instance. How long have I been here? How long have I sat like a zombie in front of the computer just to squeeze out these sentences? How long has it been since we parted ways on the buss? Just 7 hours. Sure seems like 7 days. In all our time together, there's probably only one moment where I felt a significant amount of sadness as to wake up as if a great weight were placed on my chest. And that was today... that was when I had to get on that buss, without you in it.