Dear you (the one that swims),

Last time we talked, you asked if I was doing better. You said I should trust you and him, because he loves you and he'll take care of you. . . and I understand why you said all that.

I'm happy for you, and really, you have no idea how true that is. You deserve to feel all that you have right now: To be loved, and cared for by people you love and care for. And finally, you found it in a place that won't stab you in the back, turning into some fucked up ex who wrecks his car at 70 miles an hour, or fucks with pottery I put 30 hours of work into. >_< Out of all of us, you probably need this love the most. The right kind of love.

So why am i acting like an over-protective, over-watchful, mother henning bitch of a moose?? One reason, because all those times in the past when we let our guard down. . . THAT'S when they fucked you 6 ways to Sunday. The way I figure, if someone stays cynical and suspicious, maybe things will work out differently this time. Might as well be me, cause I really hope this relationship works out for you.

Oh, and you asked if I'm okay? I'm not. . . But I don't know if i'm ready to talk about that just yet. Even here. Even to you.

Love,
The one who misses you.

Current Mood: gloomy