Aug. 24th, 2009

12:14 AM

Oh my god! My heart hurts tonight. I have to let this go and move past it. But my heart still loves him, still wants him. I find myself imagining completely fictitious situations like the zombie apocalypse, and how even then, in the most unlikely of situations we will meet again and there will still be something between us. Some unextinguished flame. Some sort of pang in both of us that draws us near, compelling us against our better judgement or conscious will. In my dreams, I am well equipped. I live in relative peace, comfort, abundance, and harmony in my seaside village with a tall fortified stone wall surrounding us. We have protected pastures and gardens. Enough food and water for everyone. And also electricity due to forsight and the installation of wind turbines. The hardest thing to procure is fuel for the Chinook, but even then, we have found a way to organize our group and work collectively to go out on expeditions to procure any necessities that we do not all ready have. We have doctors, professors, and a library to keep us occupied for ages. We even have a meditation garden. And a view of the sea to give our hearts some ammount of peace. Our home is somewhat secret. It cannot be seen from the road and is out away from the cities. I suppose one could spot us from the sea, but we never see any boats out there, and there is no way for a zombie or human to approach us from the cliffs without our help in lowering down a line or basket. We have set up open ocean spheres for fish farming, and go out to harvest. We've luckily found that the zombie plague is restricted to humans. We farm freshwater fish in our ponds. Sheep for wool and meat, chickens for eggs and meat, cows for milk and meat. We are fortunate enough to have such an abundance of food, that we are all well fed and in fact have surplus stores for the winter. I have a pack of dogs. To which the old ladies of the manor have taken a liking to. They sit and chat, and lavish attention on the dogs all day long. And in return every one of those dogs would defend those ladies to the death. They are the keepers and protectors of those that I hold most dear. It is what allows me to leave on my missions and know that my mother, grandmother, and Millie will be all right in my absence.