I feel like I'm going to puke.
I'm feeling as crazy as driving down your street at 2am blaring my car horn. This is the first we've spoken in months and it feels good. This diaphram strain hasnt been holding me back from singing in the shower, singing our song. Whatever that may be. You wounded me in ways I feel I'll never heal from, I'm down to my last cigarette and I want to smoke it- I got my license so I can get more, maybe ill keep driving and driving til I see your house and your new unfamiliar car parked in front of it. You move me in ways I never expected and I haven't moved your way in what feels like decades.
I love you.