Sigh.

I want to go to work. I really do. I know that’s what she wants and it’s what I want. In my gut, I know I want that too. I really do. I want that. I can make it work. I can. I know I can. I can make that work. I want to make it work. I want to make it work because I know I can. I love her so much. I love everything about her. She talks to me like no one else does. I really love her. I like her. I love her. A Lot. God, I love her. I feel like everything smells like her. Sometimes when I look at things, I think about her. Is that weird? I don’t think it is. I mean, it’s meant to be. I exhaust myself sometimes, but I love her so much. I must protect her. I’ll follow her, make sure she’s okay. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. She’s perfect. The way the wind blows that one strand of hair she has that lays so perfectly from her right shoulder is unreal. I breathe her. She is me. I’ll do anything to keep her safe.