Update

You're a banshee, sitting on my chest and screaming in my face in my dreams. No goodbye was said but I wish it had been as everything would hurt less if it was. The months that come through, reminding me of what you said you had to do when. I wish I could cut the veins that attach me to you as easily as you can disappear in the blink of an eye. May 1st. I hope you're studying for your exam. That's the stupid part of my brain that refuses to stop caring about you talking. That's the part that has control of my fingers and is making me write to you.

Steve and I would like to clarify that this is not an attack or even an angry Dear John letter. It's mainly a sadness fueled second narrated in writing of what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling. Sad. Abandoned. Hurt. Upset. I want to bite my tongue until it bleeds every time I try to talk about you. Pancakes make me sad. The smell of whiskey breaks my heart. I stay away from both rather successfully, but still when the neighbors are outside drinking or when I come down to see the remnants of my mother's cooking, I think of you. I guess this is just a long winded update that I haven't forgotten you. I'm sorry.