Chris Williamson

We started to learn to make clothes together.

Or learn Chinese.

Or get a movie projector.

Can't I do something now?

No.

I am alone without you.

And you were the idea woman and general instigator of all our wild adventures.

When you were sick, you worried that you could not give me something that you wanted to and thought I needed.

You needn't have worried.

Just as I told you then, there was no real need because I loved you in so many ways, so much.

And now it is clearly even more true.

You can give me nothing now, yet I love you so that you stand in my way of loving anyone else.

But I want you to stand there.

You, dead, are so much better than anyone else alive.

I know you will assure me that I am foolish and that you want me to have full happiness and don't want to be in my way.

I bet you are surprised that I don't even have a girlfriend, except you, sweetheart, after two years.

But you can't help it, darling, nor can I. I don't understand it, for I have met many girls, and very nice ones.

And I don't want to remain alone.

But in two or three meetings, they all seem ashes.

You only are left to me.