blood_red_what_i_wanted once again "That's the sin that can't be forgiven, that I hadn't done what I wanted." She reads the words again and the realization that she is guilty washes over her. She knows what she wants. She has known and denied it. She has fought against the compulsion of wanting. She has abandon and betrayed her desires. She still feels them everyday, driving her do say something, to speak a word to him. She is silent. She knows that she could be in his presence, holding his body, but she sit quietly alone and contemplates his absence. She is pushing_on_a_bruise. The unrivaled joy of his words of his body or the nagging ache of his absence. She reads the words, written by another hand, years before she was born and without conscious descision, his voice is on the phone and they are talking and she feels the sounds as ectasy. A joy so strong she feels as if she may break. And she wonders if perhaps this is not also a bruise that she must push on. 080707 what's it to you? who go blather from