Diana:

I suppose this is the last person you thought you'd hear from, but here I am writing this to you after 5 cups of coffee at 3am Sunday morning. I'm just remembering the days we'd sit on the front porch watching lines of ants: making up their names, former occupations and what the life of an ant must be like. Back then, we didn't know any better. We could just sit there and enjoy doing nothing and now it seems like I'm always rushing around. I want to get that kind of lost again without being yelled at by my subconscious for being a lazy bastard.

Somedays I miss the cold of your hand on the small of my back.

T. 
¶ 8:21 AM |