you called me earlier, a bit drunk, and told me you miss me.
the idea just struck me to ask you if it was okay for me to come and see you wherever you were. i didn't ask you, though.
to tell the truth, i really wish you wanted to see me. i really do. even if we just sit in a coffee shop and not say anything to each other, except maybe some passing chatter.
"i was alone and freezing still trying hard to understand you..."
and looking at pictures of you only reminds me of every curve of your body, every whim of your fingers, the rhythm of your breathing, feeling you beneath me. i miss you a lot, y'know.
i' be lying if i said it didn't hurt a bit.
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