Tonight is dark; by which I mean simply that the night is black, appropriate as that is. I have spent some of today with my father, and some of today with myself. The darkness to which I earlier succumbed has not lifted, but altered in its way; leaving me quiescent. I lay alone tonight; something I do not take to well. The absence of Trey is a gulf of emotion I dare not enter, my mood tonight being so dark.
My father is losing an impossible battle. His body is weak; it has fought for him these four long years; and probably seven before. Its exhaustion is writ large for those who have eyes to see it. The dullness of his skin and the weariness in his voice. His mind demands life; but I fear that his body is not long able to aquesce.
Tonight he brought up all that he drank throughout the afternoon; it was little enough; so little as to barely sustain life anyway. But now even that dignity is gone. He cannot choose when he goes, his heart remains strong, but nought else remains untouched by disease.
Tomorrow I will swim, and another day will be had, I fear how many more shall be had with my father alive.
