I don't know what I feel for him. Or what he feels for me. It's not an affair or anything like that. We just meet up and talk. Go for a coffee or to the cinema. Mainly we talk.
I don't even know why I called him the first time. Or why I keep doing it. I think I won't, but then I do it anyway.
Do you call him?
Yes.
Do you talk about Tove's death?
Yes.
When I'm with him, it feels like she wasn't gone. As if she was still around, as if I was myself again and whole again. It's hard to explain.
Stockholm Östra, 2011.
Eşlikçisi. Commuter Town.
