I have no energy left now that he’s gone. There’s no motivation for me, nothing left to look forward to until I’m with him again. There’s no reason to get out of bed, but even my bed feels bad because I got used to him being there. It’s silent in the house and I feel completely isolated. I hate how weak I become when he’s not around. He’s my only source of vitality now, because I love him more than words and he’s the reason behind everything I do.

I woke up happy on Friday because I knew that he’d be coming to see me. I knew that we’d spend the next four days where I’m from, in the house I grew up in and the town I’ve always lived in, and I knew that him being there would suddenly make all that okay to me. I wanted to be here and experience it with him. I even cooked him my favorite childhood meal, tomato soup, acini de pepe noodles, and hot dogs (substituted with tofu dogs).

We went to the local pet shops where I spend my free time looking at the animals, and we picked out a white and yellow fish for my aquarium. There was a pretty ferret there and I was tempted to buy it just so I could feel its body in my arms. I miss the long slinky body and pointy bones. I miss the squirming and fidgeting.

At night we usually drank a lot, and on Saturday we decided to take copious amounts of Robitussin to enhance the experience. I had never done it before, but I ended up having quite a trip. The living room was dark except for the blue glow of the TV while I danced and sang to Def Leppard’s Hysteria album in a way that felt religious. All the songs seemed exceptionally long. As I listened, I became aware of the fact that I was going to die in my sleep, and that this was my last night on earth. I wasn’t happy about it, but I believed that it was inevitable and I asked him to promise me that he would make me famous after I was dead. Then I realized that he was an alien, and I didn’t like it because I just wanted him to be my boyfriend.

When I wasn’t tripping, I felt fantastic and took every excuse I could to hug him close to me. I was so happy that he seemed to feel at home, and when I went out for a model call I was comforted by the fact that he would be waiting for me when I got back. We made beautiful love as often as possible and he covered my body with more kisses than I can count. We cuddled and danced and sang songs and played video games and talked to my sister’s bird and cooked breakfasts and slept together in my tiny bed every night. I could do it over and over again.

Then he left, and I cried as I watched his car back down the driveway.