The miscommunication of fools.

Always over the phone, and then, 99% of the time, through text messages. Waiting for the "beep... beep".. but fearing it at the same time.

I wish i spent more time with him in person.

Two years, and i never got to spend more than 10 days in a row with him. I know, because i counted.

But this time he called. He never does that. And i was in a crowded coffee shop. Everyone heard my conversation.

At least you can't hear me crying when i use T9 word. good/home? kurt/lust? cock/anal? All of the above. thank you.

And when i felt you pulling away, this time for good, and i didn't know what to say, i rode away... hopped on YOUR bike, and went to YOUR gym, wearing YOUR shoes... It was late at night, as usual. I know you're not around when i'm out after dark. Especially after ten....

Weaving slowly, I thought i was alone. And i saw the headlights.. i really did. i probably aimed for them, to be honest. Sometimes, i'm astounded at my own short-sightedness. It's not that i wanted to die, i just wanted something different. To be out of the picture... to be out of my very own picture...

something like that.

And i couldn't feel anything, and that was fine.

I felt warm, and i was staring up at the starless sky. Fort Lauderdale is like that. Very alone, even on a universal scale. The palm trees were waving goodbye in their friendly way, the warm air carried the voices of the people around me, and the sound of the siren as the ambulance seemed to inch it's way towards me.

Love. you said you weren't sure it was Love. I say, I know for sure, but i won't tell you which way.