Hey, I know it's late, but I can't stop thinking about what you said last night, right before we said goodbye.
And I don't know if you meant it, or if it was just a weird "in the moment" type of thing, but it hit me like a train going a thousand miles a second.
I haven't been able to feel anything but the constant loud knocking of my heart inside of my chest cavity,
and I found it nearly impossible to drive the forty-five minutes back home with my hand stuck on the wheel like a magnet and your voice, cracking like the spine of an old book, just on repeat in the back of my head,
telling me over and over again. Not even the radio on full blast could tune you out.
I know it's hard, I know it's hard, I know. I don't know what I'm doing either.
And I don't know how you make me feel so comfortably suffocated, but you saturate my soul in art and music
and you kiss my lips like I taste of your favorite candy.
You're the only thing I can think of, you're the only one.
Please, please, tell me it's real.
I can't take another waking second of not knowing.


All my love,
Air