^{[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 18 July 2021].}

Today feels like it's been two days.

An hour before midnight, Anna Maria Drutzel and I started what became a 5-hour-and-15-minute epic call. As usual, it was full of hope, dreams, plans, art, nostalgia, heartache, loss, catharsis and love. A whirlwind of words and thoughts.

After catching up on a flurry of messages and comments from friends and family, I finally called "my" Saturday a day and went to bed about 5:30.

About 10:00, I was woken by the NHS Test and Trace team, but not realising who was calling, I let the call go to voicemail. An hour and a half later, I caught up with my Dad on Skype to update him on everything and catch up on where things are at with him.

I managed not to take any painkillers today, and I'm feeling much better than yesterday.

I've had a few light-headed moments and waves of fatigue. I'm guessing that's likely to continue for a while, so I'm being gentle with myself and trying not to overdo things. Despite feeling I have so much to catch up on, and though I'd hoped for a full day of photo editing today.

The morning proper brought with it more messages and comments to reply to.

In the past month, I've been overwhelmingly reminded of the bounty I have in friends and family as they've rallied around me through the latest trial or tribulation. As each new wave bowls me over, my people bowl me over with their love, concern, support and encouragement. Again and again. I am so incredibly thankful for them. Every one.

As physically isolated as I am right now, for most of today, I've felt anything but.

But as the day closes once more, the silence, absence and emptiness feel palpable.

Where usually I'd be ecstatic at having my flat all to myself, it feels full of ghosts tonight. The occasional light breeze drifts through my bedroom and disturbs a million thoughts hanging in the air.

Though physically, I feel much better and stronger than I have for days, my heart feels weaker tonight. Broken once again. The pieces lay scattered across the floorboards still.

Usually, I would drown this feeling. Wash it away with amber waves. But I've had no such potion in the house since last Wednesday night.

So instead, I'm drowning in this feeling. And will likely seek another early night to find a release from the clamouring thoughts. And hope that, in the morning, they will shake free of my hair when I rise.