Monday, June 18, 2012

22 days....

At one week, I am wistful.

At two weeks, I am sad.

At three weeks, I realize that I can barely remember your voice, and that's when I really start to lose hope, panic, and want to run.

I don't really want to run from YOU, but I want to run from how horribly vulnerable that makes me feel, how horrible it feels to long for something so damn bad.

The simple fix would be a phone call.  But even that's so hard to coordinate, that has to be planned to.  I work when you sleep.  You work when I could call.  I sleep when you're available.

And then there's the whole part where I have to admit that this is what I miss, this is what makes me crazy, and wonder if admitting that will weird you out.

So instead... I just sit and suffer.  Blah.

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