My beautiful creature,
I can't believe that we're still doing this. Still writing letters. Still waiting for each other whenever the time is right. I thought it would pass in the first 2-3 months. It didn't.
It scares me.
It means this is real.
And now I'm writing this. Tipsy. After a Guinness at 10am, after 6 double gin and tonics. After being killed in my own game, just as I predicted.
It's weird not seeing you today.
It's weird.
And I'm trying my best to be civil.
I'm trying to tell you about the bat woman in hopes that you'll fall for her and not me. I'm not worthy of all this love.
And I can see you frowning and shaking your head at that. I know. I'll shut up.
I know today was hard for you too.
I think we both had a day. A day without seeing each other. A day without conversing. A day without just... I don't know.
And then I accidentally fell asleep and missed you this evening. I missed that short, warm window by about 10-15 minutes. And I'm... So angry at myself for it. So, so angry.
Because we hadn't had any time, not a moment today. And the one that we had... I fucked it up. I missed it.
But tomorrow we'll have coffee, if everything will be ok. And I'll get to see you. And to maybe touch your beard. And listen to... Whatever we talk about. Whatever we feel like at that moment.
And... I don't know.
It's something.
It's just something.
I know I'm being all... Judgemental to myself. I know. I know it's the 6 g&t's in me speaking. It's like this sometimes - I'm fun for a bit, and then... And then I become vicious. Mean.
You have no idea with how many knives my thoughts cut me every day. In how many places.
But I'm not going to talk about this any longer.
I'm going to do the good thing - go to sleep. Wrap myself in nice things. Rub my feet together. Think of the good stuff. Of the soft stuff.
We can do this.
Just one day at a time. With a smile. With robins and velociraptors. With kicking boots and cabbages.
We can do this.