It is almost three months now since I was pushed forcibly through the Looking Glass and into this reality.
Lately I am not always sure if I am hallucinating this reality, or if I dreamed up the whole past ten and a half years. The old reality must have happened, otherwise why would this one feel so wrong?
I'm reminded of what it was like to wake up in the middle of the night in Paul's apartment, and get up for a glass of water. All his seven computers were there with their lights shining, and the router's lights twinkling as it kept up with the network connection. I could hear aquariums bubbling, and during the summer a low roar from the fans directing a cooling outdoor breeze from the open balcony door. It was a safe and peaceful place to walk around silently in the dark, and never more wonderful than when he was there, sleeping while I padded around.
There is no place like that here..
Only here can I read about my best friend and the love of my life in a context where many of his body parts are deemed "unremarkable" by a medical expert. Even his heart, and that's just not the case. I told him several times that I wished his heart could be on a velvet cushion behind bulletproof glass, as befitted my greatest treasure. He never did arrange for this to happen.
There was a reception at City Hall that I attended. There was a bunch of clowns there performing. A couple of them were stiltwalkers, and one of them came up to me. She was about 19, I guess. "Hey, I love your black arm band!" she said cheerfully. "What does it signify?"
"It signifies my loss," I replied. "I'm in mourning."
"Oh! Well, good luck with that!" replied the stiltwalker.