scribbled notes

i don’t even know how long she’s been gone. it’s like i’ve woken up in bed and she’s not here…because she’s gone to the bathroom or something. but somehow i just…i just know she’s never gonna come back to bed. if i could just reach over and touch her side of the bed i would know that it was cold, but i can’t. i know i can’t have her back, but i don’t want to wake up in the morning thinking she’s still here. i lie here not knowing how long i’ve been alone. so how…how can i heal? how am i supposed to heal if i can’t feel time?
[…]
you know, i can remember so much. the feel of the world…and her. she’s gone. and the present is trivia, which i scribble down as fscking notes.
(excerpts from memento, which i just watched again)