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Day 211

Dear Chris,

Aren't you getting tired of me?

Aren't you annoyed with all this writing I do?

Aren't you pissed at me?

Tell me to stop. Snap me back into reality, where you want nothing to do with me. Tell me what's real. Truth.

Say it. Say anything. Say I'm a deluded idiot and I blew it long ago. Say I'm no good to you now. Say I'm no longer worth your time. Say something.


Sometimes I wish I could just forget about what happened and begin again from scratch. I'm so different now from what I was, I see so clearly and yet I'm confused without direction. I have all these aspirations I want to share. Evolve. It would be like getting to know a new me. I wonder how much you've changed. Would it be like getting to know a new you?

I came across your picture on my Google Photos memories this morning. I try to keep these two stories separate, one where you don't exist and the other where you... Or your memory, interacts with me each day.

You always pop up. You're always around. Am I around for you, too? Do you get annoyed with thoughts of me? Maybe you don't remember me whatsoever.

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