Sometimes I’d be the only one on the third floor of this building at night. Professor K and professor J usually stay late at night in their offices, though we don’t come across with one another. When all the professors in this area are out, however, I remain in the silence and enjoy the absolute freedom of quietness, or awfully feel lonely. That’d be the moments when I don’t have perceived the lapse of time.
Whenever the loneliness gets infiltrated in me, I’d think of P or others. I’d wish he . . . I desperately need a certain confirmation but it seems beyond my reach. I feel hopeless as it slips from my expectation or intention. I cannot go forward though I want to be proofread by P. What is worse, in front of him I’m getting dumber and more indecisive, irresistibly the blank, forgetting all the words I can tell . . . even not knowing what to do.
Last night I saw a man whose back looks like P. I almost called him, but didn't, because I thought he couldn't be my P. It was around 9 p.m. and P wouldn't have been there at the hour. I walked fast, though, to pass ahead him, and to make it clear that he was not mine. Indeed, much younger and more handsome boy than P, with remarkably higher-nosed. Attractive young guy, but not my man! I couldn’t help chuckling in spite of myself for a time.
Cold was last night (so is now)! My eyes were full of tears now and then, not crying but because of chilling, the coldest void of the desperate. At the moment I eagerly wanted him there.
Brit….
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