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By Ali Date: 2007 Nov 01 Comment on this Work [[2007.11.01.22.51.19204]] |
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I'm freezing, again. My house feels like it's about 40 degrees. I don't know why, but the air conditioner is still on overdrive. So, I'm sitting here, almost eleven at night. I should be watching tv. Or sleeping. Or doing something constructive. But, instead, I'm sitting here (in my underwear, I might add), thinking about you. I don't really know what I'm doing. There. I said. I wonder too many things--things that keep me from my nice warm bed--the bed I crawled out of, because I needed to do something. Something to get my mind off of you. Which, obviously, didn't work--because I'm writing about you. But, really--I have no idea what I'm doing. I know that I miss you. I don't know if you miss me. And this distance, both literal and figurative, is driving me crazy. It's cold. I'm cold. I don't want to be cold anymore. You know what I mean? |