We just got home from grocery shopping. Our kitchen was practically ransacked, and I had the worst stomach ache and hangover when I woke up this morning. Is it a good thing I don't recall really what happened this weekend?
What I do recall is more dreams. The end of these ones, maybe. At the end of it all, I decided that I was done with being a musketeer in earnest this time. I departed Paris and almost poetically stopped writing to my friends all together. It's all very final. Ah well, this version of myself, his heart was never truly in it, I feel.
Also I should add, before I forget, this picture of us on Halloween. We make quite the group.
( Cut for image, warning: good looking men in plenty of leather. )[Private to Remy]I was going through my messages on my phone. I am so sorry. I have no idea what got into me.