It is now a week!
vanishing fad ing slowly being ripped apart and tortured by the 1, 228 miles that separates us
Loving him from a distance is not hard because I know I can love this man through a sand storm
Caring for him is not hard I can do that even if it means giving up something in his defense
But missing him? not being able to touch him?
Time and distance is a sadist and I am nothing than a slave
I’ve escaped the pain’s full effect by sleeping somewhere else
-in unfamiliar sheets
but does that help the mind from painting images and giving me flashbacks?
Dear Diary it is day 7 and I am not making any sense