tenne(something)
november 16th doesn't sound so long ago in the timely sense of the statement, but in terms of emails written from an internetless naive scad student in the dark library after composition class, it might as well not have happened.
I remember the blank screens, they always looked the same. trying to fill boxes with some sort of clever words that would make you think fondly of me.
I remember how important it was when you would call at 1 in the morning and for once I would have something to think about, some sort of voice to fill the silence that's always different after the sun goes down.
I remember that time, when your life was so busy, and I was merely less than a 'mutual' friend.
when disected in just the right way,
it's just me letting you know-
that I appreciate everything
that has taken us from point A to point B.
and I look forward to the time, when I can come home from composition class, to you..
and await those silent 1am conversations, all over again.
I remember the blank screens, they always looked the same. trying to fill boxes with some sort of clever words that would make you think fondly of me.
I remember how important it was when you would call at 1 in the morning and for once I would have something to think about, some sort of voice to fill the silence that's always different after the sun goes down.
I remember that time, when your life was so busy, and I was merely less than a 'mutual' friend.
when disected in just the right way,
it's just me letting you know-
that I appreciate everything
that has taken us from point A to point B.
and I look forward to the time, when I can come home from composition class, to you..
and await those silent 1am conversations, all over again.