APB

MISSING: one tall red-headed Irish philosopher, since Tuesday night, July 1st.

LAST SEEN: July 6th, between 9:36 and 10:16 pm, lurking around the premises of the blog he once shared with one "slave kitten."

Any further sightings should be reported to the nearest black-leather clad member of the BDSM police patrol.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

he was here.
i know he was here.
he must know i know he was here.
he gave me back the password to my stats.
before we parted, my last requests:
don't read the blog.
give me back the password.

and yet.
he roamed around for 40 minutes,
reading the posts labeled "depression."
there have been more of them lately.
and crying. i know he
didn't want to deal with my crying.
i wanted to protect him from that.
i hoped he'd be relieved to be away from it all.
i don't want to be a distraction.
i don't want to think of him brooding.

ok. that's a lie. or a half lie.
part of me, the part that cares,
wants him to be fine.
but part of me, the part that cares,
wants him to miss me like hell.
or maybe he's just trying to figure out what went wrong.
or maybe he's reminding himself that i'm a pain to deal with.

maybe he just needs a few more days to settle down.
and maybe this idea was a big mistake.
or maybe i'm totally misinterpreting everything.
i clearly make a lot of mistakes.
i clearly made a lot of mistakes.

but if you see this...
and i want you to see this...
i'll make sure that you see this...
if you think this silence was stupid
(and sometimes i think it was stupid)
it's ok.
it's ok that you came by and read.
it's ok if you want to break the silence.
or if you just want to be able to stop by,
to stop by and read a while
stop by and walk among the butterflies
that's ok, too.
that's ok.
the door is always open.