It’s another Saturday morning to do the same routine. Cling. “Good Morning. :)” Another text from Thomas. “Good morning Thomas” Sent. “How are you, beautful?” Man, he can’t spell. “I just woke up, about to get ready for work. I’m gonna go shower I’ll be back” Sent. Just another Saturday morning in this cold December weather with the roads filled with frosted roads and iced tree branches with just days away for a celebration. I forgot to respond to Thomas again. I bet he’s angry with me for not responding back again. Three years we’ve been a partner of two. A tall six foot two basketball athlete with a heart of solid gold and the arms warm as the woods being burned in the fire place of my living room born in the cold country known for their forgiving culture under the rules of a British queen and their famous Hawaiian pizza creation. Cling. “Babe?” I wonder if he’s mad. “Sorry I got caught up with something” Sent. I lied. I’ve been lost in my mind of fog. “That’s okay. You busy today?” I can’t tell if he’s mad or just mellow. He’s never easy to read. “I’m free I’ve just been having a foggy day.” Sent.
Thomas was my alarm and my curfew for the past three years, but within those three years you start to learn a lot about each other. Cling. “You okay?” I don’t know myself I shouldn’t let him worry. “I’m fine” Sent. He knows I’m not fine. He knows me to well to know that I’m not. He has learned all of my cues from being ...
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...at was two years ago.” I wait patiently for a response. Nothing.
Cling. “I just need you to care for me more.” “You’re saying that I haven’t been caring enough for you?” My blood boils from the response he gives me. I need to care more even though I’ve dealt with this fog of being alone for three years and for the months I’ve had to dealt with the pain for not being able to help enough being thousands of miles apart. I don’t choose to respond not for hours. I stare at my ceiling for a good hour. 12:36am and I am still wide awake mourning over the emotions I spilled that shouldn’t have been spilled. Were my emotions direct my thought and reading Thomas’s messages. I don’t want to think about it anymore. For the lack of sleep I’ve had and the days I grow another fog. I wish and dream to sleep of the life I wish I would’ve been blessed to have. Cling. “Hey you awake?”
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