WARNING:Don't read if you're in a good mood.

Nothing new to report.

I'm angry, sad and happy, but confused and depressed all at the same time.

I have big bed and no one to share it with.

I have a big heart and no one to share it with.

"To find a queen without a king, I hear she plays guitar and cries and sings" Zep.

I'm not going to be afraid anymore.

I'm going to sleep on the side of the bed I did when I found out Sarah died. I'm going to resist drawing the curtains closed and let night get to know me again.

I shiver as I sit here. And although I know it's because I'm cold, my poetic side takes over for a moment and says I'm cold because I'm lonely.

I'm not lonely though. I'm happy, but not content. I don't want love. I don't want anything.

But at the same time, I want all of those things. But why? It's not worth it. It hurts. It hurts and it stinks.

LOVE STINKS. But what stinks even more?

Lying in an empty bed.