And as I sat there eating pretzel rods, I realized I was eating my fingers instead.
I guess I was really hungry after all.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Hi, it’s me again. You’ve been gone for a long time now and the stars are still the same. I’m looking at them, sprawled out on my driveway. I don’t know where you are and it scares me. Last time we talked, you were heading west in a car that wasn’t yours, yelling over the background noise that everything would be OK. I didn’t really believe you, and still don’t. The track marks on your arms never faded, and somehow I knew they wouldn’t, but hoped anyway. God, it’s freezing out here. I’ll never get used to nights in the desert. Where are you? Just tell me. I’m going insane. Googling someone’s name over and over can only accomplish so much. I thought I’d be the only person you’d trust, the only one to know where you are. Guess I was wrong. I keep waiting for your face to be framed in my windowpane unexpectedly, like it used to be. Isn’t that stupid? It’s been four years. I know I should let go, but I can’t. The uncertainty of you being alive or dead keeps me hanging on. I just want to know. Please, anything. Any little thing will do. Just enough for me to move on and know you’re all right. OK, well, goodbye.