Yesterday on the bike still thinking of Ida. So that I felt I had to tell her everything that was happening to me. As if she were my first contact person. But we saw each other only once.

I woke up with a desire for her; a feeling of love. She had written to me at night. I saw it when I checked the time.

A great fear is in me. I hear Angeles by Eliott Smith. It’s like I have to break up with her before I even get to know her. A preponed pain. (I love her so much).