(no subject)
Had a dream last night that the glasses you had lent me somehow broke.
They seemed to have been made completely out of glass, and I felt like I had broken the proverbial 'glass slipper.'
And now that I have broken them, I can no longer find you.
Granted, after waking up from my fevered dream, they were laying right beside me on the bed and intact, but I still have that sense of awful foreshadowing. And you, well, we haven't spoken since I was feeling like hammered shit Monday night.
Stupid Valentines Day.
This weekend at the car show with you was amazing. Just wish I could have ended that day with a good note instead of feeling like I owe you more of an apology than I gave you. Granted, you didn't seem like you minded later, but I still have no idea what is going on in that spiky head of yours.
Get to work on the song for you tonight. Ned, always faithful, will be my guide, hopefully to making something great, hopefully. Cause lord knows I have a habit of screwing things up sometimes.
I'm tired, really don't want to head to work or to bed, just want this sickness to be identified. Before I break myself again.
I wonder...
If maybe it's me and being sick that is too much for you to handle. You didn't speak to me much after the eighteenth when I was ill and spent the night at your place.
I guess I couldn't blame you much. Most people see me for how healthy I am, they view me for whether I can get up and moving or if I am down for the count.
Would be nice to just be viewed for me again. The person that I am, not the illness.
Ready to get the blood test results back. Friday can't come soon enough for me.
They seemed to have been made completely out of glass, and I felt like I had broken the proverbial 'glass slipper.'
And now that I have broken them, I can no longer find you.
Granted, after waking up from my fevered dream, they were laying right beside me on the bed and intact, but I still have that sense of awful foreshadowing. And you, well, we haven't spoken since I was feeling like hammered shit Monday night.
Stupid Valentines Day.
This weekend at the car show with you was amazing. Just wish I could have ended that day with a good note instead of feeling like I owe you more of an apology than I gave you. Granted, you didn't seem like you minded later, but I still have no idea what is going on in that spiky head of yours.
Get to work on the song for you tonight. Ned, always faithful, will be my guide, hopefully to making something great, hopefully. Cause lord knows I have a habit of screwing things up sometimes.
I'm tired, really don't want to head to work or to bed, just want this sickness to be identified. Before I break myself again.
I wonder...
If maybe it's me and being sick that is too much for you to handle. You didn't speak to me much after the eighteenth when I was ill and spent the night at your place.
I guess I couldn't blame you much. Most people see me for how healthy I am, they view me for whether I can get up and moving or if I am down for the count.
Would be nice to just be viewed for me again. The person that I am, not the illness.
Ready to get the blood test results back. Friday can't come soon enough for me.