As if it were possible to feel like a tick, she thought that for a while she had been one. Like a tick that, against its will, is taken out from its animal. She felt like a tick that after being taken out is burnt with paraffin, making noises, writhing, stinking. She was home-alone, and she could sob. She had cried before, but silently; not without tears, but silently. How relieving it was to be a tick for a while.
if you told me that you want me to be the mother of your children
I'd say yes, and would follow you
if I told you I want you to be the father of my children
would you come for me?
how can I let you know that I miss you everyday
that there are days that I feel I will sell my soul to be with you
that some of them I can hardly breathe because of your abscence
how can I let you know all that
without sounding stupid
childish
irrealistic
and unable to go on without you
maybe it's just impossible because
I'm all that
and more
