Hey You. . .
01 - 44 degrees
It is storming. You are sleeping. I am thinking about
you always. The thunder is so loud. I want to turn the
tv off and just listen to it, but the Chappelle show is
on, and I can't turn it off. Making me laugh. I wanted
to write but I needed to get out of bed. You are trying
to sleep, but I was to tempted to touch. I love you so
much. And we didn't freak out today when the other had to
talk to the exes. I think it's a very good sign. I know
I said things were going downhill. That sounded a lot
more harsh than I meant. But things were so perfect, it's
been over a year. When we fight it's just worse and it
makes me feel so much worse. I hate to cry now. It feels
like my world is falling apart when we're not perfect. I
don't have control over much, so even the things that seem
little to you, to me, it makes my world conformed and neat
and managable. That last parking space is where I park
everyday. So even if you happen to be off work and I'm
not sorting laundry @ 10:15, it's okay, cuz sum things I
can "park in" and sum things I can "not sort." It's kinda
like picking your battles, and when I seem to freak, maybe
it's because I feel cornered and altered, without my
consent. It's like I can't pick because the decisions
have been made and I am in shock. So, just, I'm sorry...
Things aren't for the worse. Different, yes. Scary
sumtimes. But my love for you, as long as you never cheat
on me, is stronger than it's ever been for anyone in my
whole life. It's crazy insane intense. You just can't
understand. No one can. I swear, promise, swear I meant
it when I said that you, Tony, are the best thing that has
ever happened to me.
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