Empty Apartment.

I think I'm going mad. How could I be anything else, when I've been alone in these four walls for the past three days? I think I might have wished this to happen, but I'm not aware of it. 1

I'm beginning to ask questions, the big questions which I can't really answer. Who am I? Where am I going? (Well, that one's simple enough, nowhere, considering my ex-girlfriend locked me in here without leaving a key. She did, however, leave a note. "You never loved me." 2

Those four words are startling, not least because they're an utter lie. I loved her deeply, and I think she knew that, but denied it in the moment she wrote that letter. 3

If home is where the heart is, then my home's with her, because my heart's still with her. I hope she comes back soon, otherwise I may not be held responsible for my actions...I'm going to make myself a coffee. She locked me in the kitchen. Mmm...coffee, the ideal fuel to think about life's big questions. More ideal than beer, anyway. Beer just clouds your judgement and makes you fall asleep. (Or it does me, anyway.) One thing I'm damn sure of is I'm an idiot. I should never have given her the key to the kitchen, or put a lock on the kitchen door, but I'm obsessive compulsive. The kitchen's GOT to be in order otherwise I flip. She had to lock me in my favourite room in the house to obsess over. I'm goin' stir-crazy here, because I've ordered it a thousand times over, and I don't think she's coming back any time soon. I love ya, babe. I want you to know that, and I want you to come back and let me out. I forgive you for everything you've ever done, and I hope you'll forgive me for all I've done wrong.