I'm not sure if you are reading this journal or not, but it seems whenever I expand on something here, you react to it in all ways, save today, I did not mention here how sleepless I wandered the house and stared at the empty chair in the living room until now. And now you stretch out in it, as ever, and slip off to Dreamland.
I find myself once again struggling against the intrusive thoughts and desires. The tingle in my fingertips to touch what isn't mine. The desire for you to know more of me than just a smile; and yet not so familiar as to cross lines.
Comments
Post a Comment