Sep 02, 2009 00:47
When I was younger, I found this duck. His Mama was long gone. I named him Duck Duck. He used to chase me in the field behind my Grandma's house, with his wings all spread out. He would follow me, running after me, trying to fly. He couldn't though, because no one ever taught him how. He died though. I'm pretty sure my uncle fed him turpentine. Little ducks die if they eat turpentine.
I'm sorry I left tonight. It's easier this way. Its getting you used to not having me around. I know you're sleeping, probably not having any dreams about anything at all. I'm sure you'll like me in the morning. That was my intention. To show you that you'll be ok without me sleeping by your side. Although my cat Steve is a poor substitute for your warmth, it's for the best. I didn't realize how much I would miss you, but I will. The bus ride to see you just got a whole lot longer, and I'll probably take it, just not as much. Because you need to stop chasing me through the field and find how to live on your own.
I miss you already and I'm not even gone yet. I miss listening to you breathe at night. I'm just preparing myself and you for what will have.
143 mister.