Day Twenty One

Sometimes I wonder what is worse: the grief of never seeing someone again, or the grief of knowing that you will never share the same affection for each other again. At face value, if someone you loved were to die, it would seem much worse than never talking to them again. But at least you know that they're never going to walk down the street hand in hand with someone else, that they're not going to fall out of love with you.
I feel sad when I don't talk to him. But the next morning after I do talk to him also makes me sad because missing him is almost as bad as not being able to talk.
So begs the question: what would hurt less? Talking to him or never talking to him again?

For the nightmares of yesterday become the horrors of reality.