Thursday, July 31, 2003

It just had to happen, doesn't it? I've found myself rushing to my PC, anxiously checking for your e-mails, for any contact whatsoever from you. It's taken a lot to keep from picking up the phone, from calling you in the middle of the night just to hear your voice. I sometimes wonder if maybe something has happened to you whenever I don't hear from you. Perhaps, just perhaps, you could have been kidnapped by gypsies who fancied the way your hair shone in the sunlight. And still, nothing comes. And I get used to it. My heart stops speeding up whenever I check the post. I start to miss you less, to stop thinking about you and what you're doing at that point in time. I begin to wonder - about other things, other people. And then, one day, something arrives. A short note of less than a hundred words. But still enough to make the cycle begin anew. And I'm looking through the post everyday again. For you.

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