Hearing: Agathodaimon - Solitude

I wrote a letter to Jesse, I had some things on my mind but he was asleep. He asked me why I wrote him a letter and I told him that I did not want to wake him because as I have explained before in this diary, he is weird once he falls asleep. There is no use to try wake him and say anything.

I began to think last night about him. I was wide awake and thinking about the things that drive me creatively. He is one of them. I have this driving force within stories and paintings, it's like an energy and I can even put a face to it. I've had it since I was quite young. I used to think it was an angel or a spirit guide of some sort that would guide me through the worlds in my head because it was like it was a part of me, my other half almost and once I get to work, this force became it's own being, it's own story.

Jesse just fit the description of the muse that I had created so he became that. I find him beautiful in many ways. His passiveness, his silence and his curiosity. His looks are very unique and pretty to me and his silence holds a mysterious energy. He reads my stories and he is intruiged by them, he understands them as he understands me.

Just looking at him last night made me want to start spilling words out onto paper but it was a little too late to get into something, so I wrote him a letter and whatever was on my mind at the time came out. I folded it like a card and left it on the t.v. for him to read in the morning. It's been a while since I've done that. I used to write him love notes and poetry on our bathroom mirror before bed and he would get to read them in the morning and he would leave me messages for when I woke up.

We used to do a lot of writing to each other. We would use journals and take turns making entries, responding or just reading what the other person needed to release. Sometimes we would write our own erotica, writing up small parts each until we completed a story. I miss the stories the most but it's something that we just don't have time for anymore. Instead I just let him read what I write and he does all my editing.

I am going to write him another letter before bed and even if he is to busy to write back it will still makes me feel better that he is able to read all my strange ideas and feelings.