March 21st, 2009.
I should fill in some context for you, diary. I have known Capriol for quite a long time.
We first met as children, for we took violin lessons from the same teacher, Ms. June.
Our hometown is quite little, not large enough to have a bigger pool of violin teachers.
Oh, Capriol! It turns out the Liam I knew as a child, who could balance an ostrich feather
on her nose, the one who I apparently proposed to at the age of four - this is my Capriol!
There is a picture of us as children holding hands. And to think, for six or so years, we
forgot about each other! And now... I'm in love with him. Ah, Fate, your cruelty never
ceases to astound me! As Delecroix said of Hector Berlioz, "A being harboring an
unrequited love of that caliber is not much of a being at all." I agree with this
wholeheartedly. I've been reduced to a sick, sleepless mass of nothing. He's starving
me, he's invading my dreams, he's breaking my heart, making me morose. He's addling
my brain to distraction, my mood to apathy, my body to dust. I am not sure how much
more I can take of this.