it's my fault, i mean, i never come home anymore. or like, my home is no longer your home-- if that makes any sense to anybody other than you.
cuz with you, i don't have to say anything. i can look at you without raising an eyebrow and you get it. you get me.
ironically i don't call you because i wouldn't know what to say. we don't talk, really. we just........are.
we're song lyrics and movie quotes.
we're a series of yups and huhs?
we're random acts of i don't know what......
if i texted you as often as i thought about you, you would throw your phone in a lake. (not that there is a lake anywhere near where you live.) but you would. throw your phone. in a lake.
cuz i think of you all the time.
you are the first person i think of when i need to get out of my head.
like if i were there we would race shopping carts at super stop and shop, or race rolling desk chairs down the driveway.
sometimes i'll hear a song and i think you would like it, or i read a book and think you should read it. i always think, if i had a million dollars, i would send you everything.
i would send you the whole world if i could.
and i would wrap it up real cool in like the comics from the sunday paper with a lot of scotch tape and a bow. not because you need that bullshit but because i think you deserve it.
cuz you and me, we live in the slippery side of the slope. we're familiar with the dark. we swim in the deep end of the ocean.
it's too bad you don't have facebook. cuz i don't think you'll ever see this.
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