You disappeared 29 days ago. It feels a whole lot longer because too much happened in between. I have a mind but I’m not sure it’s mine because I lost mine a couple of times and people around me have been losing theirs too. The one I have doesn’t seem to fit, maybe I picked up the wrong one, maybe it’s the same, just more heavily burdened.
The world is cracking again. It’ll fall apart soon so I thought I’d reach out to you before I have to begin reconstruction. It’ll feel like you’re telling me to be positive and I’m not listening. We can be predictable. I talk because I want to be heard, you talk because you want me to rise above the problems I can’t seem to not obsess over.
Also Check Out: Clingy, The Butterfly’s Demise
You looked forward to these final days so much, I wonder what they are actually like. I hope they exceed your expectations but I can’t stop being myself for long enough I begin to worry about the possibility that they might disappoint you. Life is like that more often than not. The universe enjoys satire.
Have You Read: The Runaway Project. The Letter Mother Never Got
It’s warmer than when I left. I might have grown colder, more detached. Do I still make those appearances in your dreams where I am living mine? I hold on to those as promises of a possible future where I find myself, and truth, and balance. I don’t know if I believe in happy. At least not the same way I used to, before we first met.
I wonder where your mind is. I would call but I have let it be like this for so long, I fear that I have spent all this time digging a canyon, I might be too deep in to come out in time. Time takes so much.
This structure is terrible. I hope you get this in time.