I'm home, sitting by the kitchen table talking bullshit with my mad family. Wish you were here, wish you'd see what I see in them. Thinking about you constantly, but suddenly I get shy of putting it into words. I'm not ready to turn this into something worldly, it's still up there in the sky with the birds and the angels, how could I ever describe? Words are created by humans, and humanity is down here on earth, words are simply too small. I nod my head and say "yes" when they ask, but I can't describe it. I tell them I'm in love, but I could never make them see how sublime it really is. They nod their heads and smile, as if they understod, and all I can do is smile back because... they have no idea.

As always my family home has a calming effect on me. I sit in front of the fireplace with a book in my hand, listening to old jazz, drinking glögg. But you're missing, a part of me is where you are, as always. The heart around your neck is my heart, and without you next to me, in my arms, skin against skin, my soul is blank.