it's 10:18pm and my heart aches a little for your touch. it aches a lot for your touch, actually. it shrivels up in a ball and goes in the corner of my hollow chest and buries itself in sadness. it misses you, maybe even more than I do. after you left, you see, my heart and I have yet to be on good terms. we fight. we fight a lot. we fight about stupid things like starting up a conversation with you. stupid things like crying and letting it out and toughening it out. stupid things like that. now, this is not a midnight jumble of words but it could easily be that if it were midnight. now, I do hope you're happy and your heart and yourself are on good terms. I certainly do hope so.