I’m kind of tired. Having you in mind, I mean. You existing in there as if you were another suppressed me. It’s difficult, you know. Having to wait and wait and wait again before forcing me into confession. It’s difficult. You know it’s difficult, right? So if I give up would you forgive me? Not that I’ve ever been a remorseful person; you definitely know that. I wish I was telepathic. Then I could haunt your mind. Isn’t that what you do with mine?

Give me a break, will you?

I wish I could format my brain. Selectively for sure.

You recall the times when you could just touch what you wanted? Feel and squeeze it and own it and live it. I don’t. I remember playing hide and seek and getting lost because of running too far away.

I’m tired now. I need someone to come on a rescue mission.

Babe, I’m not angry anymore. Just teach me how to start over again.

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