Inertia kept me idle as activity seemed useless in the 
big wide emptiness of a wasted weekend, only when 
you explained on Sunday night you’d received a new 
project at five pm Friday did life start to make sense
When you’re distant without explaining why I lose my 
footing, fall into an ever-looming chasm of Despair. A 
boon was reading Pilgrim’s Progress short version by 
John Bunyon. I, too, lost my companions, Hope and 
Faithful, in the black Dungeon wherein spirits dwelt, 
even excerpts from Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre 
did not help, only when you admitted the problem 
while we watched the glittering dreams 
On Strictly Come Dancing and I chose my queen did 
you smile, albeit unwillingly, and the earth tilted 
back to stabilise in the sweet meadows of 
Common Sense and Calm Rationality…
Diary Sunday 24 February 2013
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