Am going absolutely insane without being able to talk to you. You're like the pages in my journal that quickly fill up. If you don't know already, life without my journal, isn't life. I am dead. I can't write in the pages because you're gone. I can only cry, and let my tears hit the pages before you left.
I know I screwed up again. Some stuff hit the fan last night. I know there isn't any excuses in the world to come up with for why I randomly stopped PMing you last night. Our conversation was never ending, almost. I broke the chain. My heart at the same time. Baby-steps is what I tell myself. Every time I say your name in the back of my head.
I hope you're having a splendid time. You need a vacation. You need somewhere, so divine and pure to think. To get your mind right. I'm happy you're able to get away. Go walk on the beach. Feel the sand between your toes [which, BTW, my birthday present!! DON'T FORGET].
I love you so much.
And I miss the hell out of you.
You have no idea.
