soleit

A kind of constant presence, both physically and mentally, is almost the whole idea, though it's hard to explain. I would have dreams and she'd always be there, like me, and if she isn't I wonder wildly where she could be and why on earth I'm alone. One of these rare dreams involved me sitting at a table in a kitchen on a bright winter evening, sorting out little trinkets and tiny items-random things-blocks, snow globes, pencils, even chocolate chips. It was only me at the table and her absence make the dream seem bizarre and searching. I couldn't figure out why she wasn't there; even in my sleep I expected her presence like someone else migh