Without any fear

I used to love Christmas, now it just reminds me of hospitals.

We celebrated together, the two of us alone. He got me jewelry from Dolce & Gabbana, I got him that splatter-print Balenciaga sweater he wanted. We took a late walk through empty streets around Saint-Germain-des-Prés, I had too much wine and Absinthe and he carried me to bed and whispered French lullabies in my ear.

The thought of spending New Year's with his sister like he wants sickens me. I've managed to avoid her all autumn, he knows exactly how to make me feel guilty about it. S asked me to come to Florence, I want to go but don't know how to tell him. He looks so innocent asleep beside me, his warm pale skin almost glowing in the dark. It would be so easy to end it all.

Let's embrace the point of no return

I went through his coat pockets looking for cigarettes and found something he wrote on the back of a restaurant tab (oysters at Régis). He wrote whenever we're out together I know she'll eventually disappear from me. I go to the bathroom and leave her at the table and I know that when I come back she'll be gone like smoke or the memory of a dream. I feel it the same way every time and every time my heart breaks when I turn round the corner and find that she's still there.

Other than that, I'm still somewhere in between flying and falling.