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My defenses have been weak lately. I read something that reminded me of you (singular and plural). And so I’ve dreamt about you more this week than I have in years. The actual details of you are almost gone now. It’s more of a caricature than a portrait.
Sometimes it almost wrecks me. I can feel great sobs building in my chest, threatening to shake me, to spill over into teary eyes and an aching throat.
Maybe it’s just the old panic. The kind that had me sleeping in my car instead of going to class. Is that what scared you off?
And then more rational thought kicks in and I move forward. Nothing could ever change what happened - what was meant to be was meant to be. You’ll be back in your box soon and I won’t deal with these thoughts again for a while.
Sometimes I worry that I’m addicted to feeling this way.
2:52 a.m. - 2020-11-30