Unknown diary ~ 4 ~
He’s offering me a dream. I cannot reject it. I cannot… I am too tired of the necessity to forget a half of myself. I am tired of worshipping someone else. Tired of convincing myself that journey never happened. Years 1988-89 never happened. That there were no fires in the winter sky. And that in March 1989 there was no Witchbridge fog meeting me on the train’s stairs. That I wasn’t promising myself "just one more time, one last time, I’ve noticed her a long time ago…"
