I’m just sitting on a bench in front of the natural history museum crying behind my sunglasses. It’s so hard being so close. I had such high romantic hopes for today. Just to see you and hug you would be amazing and so so much for my (and I suspect, our) heart. I’m a fool.
I hope you’re sleeping soundly in your bed. And that you enjoy this beautiful day. And that your heart is healing. And that Harv is cuddling with you. And that the coffee is good. God damn I miss you.
I know you won’t come and see me and I know it’s not because of anything other than your hurt and pain, but part of me feels so strongly that we can better heal together than apart. I hope for that so badly.
I’ve been here for a half hour and I already feel like I’ve seen you ten times. Just corners of my eyes glimpses. It’s just desperate hope, I know. This whole thing is desperate, and I know that, too.
Every time I catch myself doing this or spilling toothpaste on myself or even just brushing and putting stuff in my hair, I think of you. These things happen all the time.
An interesting read I thought you’d enjoy and maybe find useful. Not much in the way of citation, but it’s good. medium.com/@DaleBera…
See. You’d be proud.
My suit came today and all I want to do is show it off for you and to get all dressed up and go out together. You’d be so proud.
Another day without hearing from you. I know why. And I want you to be better. And I know I won’t hear from you tomorrow. But I still hope to. I love you.
This made me think of you. www.engadget.com/2019/09/0…
Traces of you. Every day.
You’re surely asleep. All I want is to nestle in to you and tell you I love you and wish you goodnight as I put my arm around you.
I’ve spent all weekend checking my email, even though I know you won’t respond. I still hope. I love you. I know it way down in my hurting heart.
I hurt. I hurt so much. I know you are hurting, too. It just hurts extra that we can’t hurt together. I don’t know what to do.
A Monday that feels like a Sunday. Great. It’s been a great effing day.
Dessert chocolate and I’m in tears. I miss you so so much.
Sundays… I miss you all the time, but I miss you so acutely on Sundays. I hope so desperately to see you next Saturday and that I can hopefully see you Sunday, too. I don’t expect that, but I wish for it so badly.
Needed your help today picking out new glasses. Sigh. I miss you so much. There’s a rumble right across the street from the Warby Parker. Seemingly everything triggers.
Another moment was he line of people taking selfies in Love Park
Just had an absolutely horrific experience. I decided to take the train into the city for my appointment at Warby Parker, and it was stuffed to the gills with teenagers going to some music fest. The whole train. Drunk, high, amped up teens. Gah.
I miss your fingers in my hair.
Turns out that the summer reading book I got randomly assigned was Station 11. Gosh I miss you.
It is amazing how far I feel from you. It makes me so sad.
I think about you every time I get dressed— would Julie shake her head at me? I think about you when I’m doing my hair, when I spill toothpaste on myself, when I catch myself standing on the side of my right foot. God I miss you so much.
I’d love to share so much with you. This place feels like such a great fit so far. My experience at Nueva was valuable, and coming to an understanding of what I want to do in education was important, but this is the sort of situation that feels great. I just want to share.