good morning heartache, sit down.
2002-03-04
as soon as my head hits the pillow i start thinking about him and certain times and places like when he came home one saturday for a visit. laying there looking at the ceiling remembering lying in bed with him, looking at his face and the curve of his lips. heart racing as we had sex while his father was sleeping in the front room. can't believe i did that. thinking. i wonder if they knew. i wonder if they heard. i wonder if they noticed i changed into a different shirt because it was so hot and thought that was a little weird. maybe they disliked me.thinking who the hell cares anymore. why godammit why do you think of these things. imagining what it would be like if i saw him again. what would i say. what would i do. would i cry? would i play it cool? would i grab him and not let go?
maybe.
tired of talking. tired of thinking. sometimes he's the last person i think of and the first person that comes to mind. when i close my eyes. when i open them.
looking at the phone. no. don't do it. things are good now. don't do it. it if it was meant to be it was meant to be.
thats what i tell myself.
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