When doors are opened to all possibilities, be prepared. This week, I thought I would have found words for emptiness, but the white fields and the black holes are not sitting still. They spill into each other. When trying to make order, chaos knocks at my door and for now, the door won’t close. The nothing I am looking for will not be found.

Sighing tells me I am trying to fill an empty space with breath. Yawning tells me there’s a hole in the hole and there will never be enough air to fill it.

I am missing Paul. We talk to each other through skype. We can hear and see each other in odd sometimes half-sketched ways that jump and freeze and often disappear completely into a black screen. Looking into each others eyes at the same time, is not possible. The camera and the computer control our viewing. I worry. Earlier this week I was overwhelmed by anxiety. I tell myself it is irrational fear, but that does not make it go away. I am afraid of losing him. I imagine him dead too many times. This is making me nervous. This is where I confuse Paul and my mother.  I am afraid of being left alone in my black hole. I don’t think this is fear for my own death, although I realize that could be faulty thinking; fear of being left alone in a black hole sounds a lot like death. I need constant messages that he is there, just on the other side of my screen, at the other end of the tiny black hole at the top of my computer!