I was sitting on my bed, feeling rather lonely. I barely drank any of my cold tea with sugar. Cold tea is so much better in the summer than hot tea. I drink mine with sugar and lemon, while Jack prefers just lemon. Bitter to match a bitter person, I suppose. I feel as if I will never understand Jack. His complications are way beyond his control, let alone mine. He places a lot of trust in me and it’s a crushing weight on my shoulders, like a burden that I cannot lift. I cant do anything about it and I fear it may kill him and ultimately me. I often dream of running away to a foreign land full of secrets and surprises. I long to feel like no one and nothing, in a place where I can change my name everyday and wear a wig if I pleased. But these are just mere thoughts and for now, I’ll settle with museums and artwork, cold tea and bitterness and being little old me.
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