#down..

Oh, my beloved Alice. When she returns, perhaps I'll—

...will she return?

Surely, she must. My side has never felt such an absence.

Surely.

She knows it's where she belongs, she does, truly she does. And — and yet here I am, waiting. Alone.

...

I mustn't dwell. That's no way to conduct myself, no... I know where this dwelling will lead. Of course I do. To dwell is to the desolation, which becomes despair, and of course, bring destruction. Destruction of something beautiful. I mustn't dwell.