Lullabies: Over My Head by Lang Leav

Your snores used to bother me a lot, love. It was so loud that it felt like a bear was sleeping in our room. When it gets unbearable, I’d tilt your head to the side.
But eventually, I got used to it.

I am more worried when I don’t hear it. The snores meant you’re alive, you’re breathing, and you’re with me…

It’s the silence that is unbearable now…

Lullabies: A Phone Call by Lang Leav

Oh how I miss our endless phone calls, love. 

I can still remember your enthusiasm when you discussed The Oatmeal. It was around 10 PM. I was sitting at the stairs talking to you in a hushed voice; afraid that I might awaken the household.
You’re the one who introduced that website to me. The copyright issues, the fundraising, and Tesla. We talked for hours about online stuff. You never ran out of random things to say. Random things to share. 
Thank you for sharing your beautiful mind. I really love you and your geeky side. 

Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines by Pablo Neruda

 Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,’The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.’

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, and sometime I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another’s. She will be another’s. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.


I’ve yet to finish all the books you gave me. I’m scared to read them and ran out of books from you.

We haven’t finished our discussion of Dune, you know? I’m still on the second book. And I’m not quite ready to read it, knowing that you’re no longer here to dissect and discuss the highlights of the book with me. 
I really really miss you, love. 


You scared the crap out of me when you sent me this comic strip.

“Not every door is locked, love. I’ll buy you lots of keys!!!” 
I told you, didn’t I?
But you did not wait for the keys…