i need.

makes it move slower.

my inside hurts.

and theres nothing i can realistically do about it.

can i drive to her house and demand to see her?

no.

can i call her?

no.

can i smoke her out?

no.

so instead i sit here. watching the hour turn.

moving like an old man with concrete boots.

i dont know what to do.

what to do what to do what to do. it becomes a mantra.

my heart beats.

i need someone to talk to.

i need her.

i need someone to talk to.

in eight days it would be 5 months.

im afraid.

im in love.

i need to do something.