Dear You,

Dear you,

I wonder about you a lot. What might have happened, had you not left. Not a lot comes to mind, it might have been the same, nothing different. I've never missed "the usual" so much.

Nothing much happened today. I wrote some songs about you. Well, the beginning of one and half of two. I thought maybe I should incorporate the beginning and the two halves into one song, but it would go forever.

Driving to Chicago has never been so long, I'm so glad I get to be home. You're there. Even though I never see you.The last thing you ever said to me still rings in my ears, you said, "it's just time."

What was that "time"? It wasn't time for me. I had the feeling you'd been deliberating about it for longer than you let on, and that you'd grown to accept it. I haven't accepted it yet, Adam said that it was clear I hadn't. He didn't say it to me though, I heard it from someone else. I hate that people don't say anything to my face after what happened.

I hate it.

I don't like myself without you.
Love me.