The night sky and the horizon of the sea, barely distinguishable shades of black. Waves crashing and foaming. Sitting underneath Orion's Belt; now shrouded by rainclouds.

She sits there, long straight black hair (how I've always loved that hair) touching the shoulders of her velvet blue dress. 'It's been a while,' she says. 'Yes, it has,' I reply. She smiles. I continue, 'You still look the same though.' 'I've been trying to lose weight,' she says. 'Yeah, you do look skinnier.' I don't really think she does, but then I've never thought she needed to slim down.

The lady at the counter calls my order and I collect my meal. She picks up my chopsticks and reaches for the food, before hesitating and asking me if I mind. Of course not I say, and she starts daintily picking at the rice. 'You have to mix it first,' I tell her, and I stir the rice and egg and vegies together with the plastic spoon. 'Woops,' she giggles, and brushes her hair away from her heart-shaped face.

Soon her meal comes too, and the conversation picks up a little. We ask each other about our jobs and life in general, but I don't give away much. I guess somewhere inside there still lies that hard rock of resentment; I know too that she's achieved much more in her life, and I don't want to allow her this victory.

We talk about relationships, and she starts confessing about the problems she's having with her boyfriend. 'I was thinking about getting married next year but then..... What do you think?'
I want to ask whether she thinks it's weird she's asking me for an opinion on marriage and relationships, this girl who, years ago, half-jokingly(?), said she wanted to marry me. I keep my mouth shut though, nod, and throw out the occasional 'yes' and 'hmm' and 'maybe you should think about it'.

After lunch I walk her back to the station, and we part, awkwardly.

Back in the office, I message her.
'get back ok?'
'yeah didnt get lost. you're still the same.'
'im guessing thats a bad thing'
'hehehe'

You're still the same, girl, still the same.

Fade. Fading. How I loathe these words. They tell of something bright, changing into grey. Of something good that is now lost. It's the struggle all things inevitably lose.
I took the day off and drove him to the hospital today, the weather clear and slightly chilly in the morning. Hospitals are such bleak, depressing places. The outside of the building was a mish-mash of white painted concrete and brown bricks, and once inside we made our way through plain white corridors until we reached the cancer centre. We waited there for them to call his name, waiting and watching the nurses and doctors bustling here and there, the old and the sick plodding through. So fragile, everyone.

Eventually it was his turn to go in, and we stayed in the waiting room. She began telling me how it all started, how they had no idea, how long he had left, now. She told me how she planned to sell the house, get rid of everything, live in an aged care village and spend the rest of her days quietly. I'm not sure if it was the sadness of it all, or the fact that she was brave enough to say it all with a straight face, or the tone of resignation in her voice, but I choked and had to look away.

Already I can see the tiredness in his eyes. Suffer light, suffer gentle.

Man has always been curious to know what lies in the distance. Over that mountain, beyond the horizon of the sea. Maybe a magical lake, a new virgin land. It's this that I'm drawn to, the distance you represent. But that warmth is the shine of broken promises. That false light, that chemical glow. Yet I can't turn away.

Today I feel like the four walls are suffocating me. Appropriately, it starts raining as I leave the office.

Finally, it seems, I've achieved some degree of job satisfaction. I've been given more responsibilities and projects and thus I feel needed, which is always important for an egotistic megalomaniac. Unfortunately the moolah stays the same.

Work had a Melbourne Cup day on Tuesday. It's funny how a horse race can be such a big event; after all these years I still don't see the attraction, but hey, who am I to complain when we get half the day off. We also had a raffle, and I (I who have never won a thing in my life) won a case of Peroni beer. How ironic. I bet someone above was having a good laugh.

I'm slowly, but definitely, prepping up for the big move. Tonight I'll be going to Kmart to get essential household equipment such as a bin, clothesline, broom, toilet brush and the like. Very exciting stuff. Should I get a sky-blue coloured washcloth or a canary-yellow?

In other news, Obama won so I no longer feel the urge to jump off a very tall building.

You don't realise what's been lost until you remember it being there.

I wonder if others dream of others, too.