March 19, 2013

I’m going to hold my breath until the term is over. I’m going to take the plunge and bury myself six feet under.

Breathing only makes me feel worse. Leisure is a crime. Complacency is a crime. Stillness is a crime. No matter what, I can’t stop moving.

Whenever I pause to take a second off, the waves come crashing down and water fills my lungs.

I’m struggling, I’m flailing…….

And then, there’s you. You’re probably stressed to the same level as I am. When we talk, it’s still about work, and I can’t take it. I talk to you to forget things like that, but we both can’t seem to let it go.

Twice you asked me to distract you, and twice, I think I have failed. Since when did I run out of things to talk about and just focus on work all the time? Since when?

Of course, I miss you. You had a rough day yesterday. Your plans might have not panned out like you thought they would. I’m sorry. I want to hear all about it, but maybe when you feel better, and when I feel better, too.

I hope you’re okay. I wish the same for me as well. We’ll get through this term. Like I said, you were right before, and I hope you’re right again now. We’ll be alright.

Make it good, hun.


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