Tuesday, 6:00 am.
I slept with the phone on my bed hoping you would call. I sent you a text last night saying you should call if you wanted. I guess you didn’t want to speak with me. I feel sad, but not surprised. It seems to always be this way; you call me then avoid me. I have a long day ahead of me and I will try to keep myself busy so I’m not focused on my sadness or hopelessly waiting for you to contact me. I keep thinking about your sadness at the passing of your dad and wishing I could hug you again. I love you, but it hurts. Maybe we will wait until September. It hurts to think it may be never. I hope that god either brings you to me or allows me to let you go. This is an exercise in patience, which I have none. I’m still madly in love with you and missing you.
