The Pains of Love
Haven't talked to Al all day. I miss him. I probably won't be able to talk to him all day, either, because I have night class. Then I have play practice that doesn't end until eleven. Then I'll probably get a shower and go to bed because I have a class at nine-thirty. Why can't love be more convenient? He knows my class schedule. Why can't he be there when I miss him the most? I wish he had never left Edinboro. I miss him and I need him. Yet I don't think he grasps the level of how much I miss him. I tell him that and he says "I miss you, too" yet he doesn't plan on coming up here until spring comes. I think he's one of the only things that is keeping me from going insane. I wish he were here. I miss him. I need him. I want him.
. . .
But he's not here.
. . .
But he's not here.