most days i wake up in the morning telling myself that the day will be a good one ; rarely do i hit my pillow agreeing with that morning's statement . i try hard not to be disappointed but at the back of my mind , the clock's always ticking and i always inevitably end up disappointed ( if i'm lucky ) by the end of the day ( most times it's mid morning ) .

maybe my departure will bring about some good ; i'll no longer be disappointed because i just won't be able to . he won't be able to tell me he'll be round in fifteen minutes and not turn up at the agreed time . i'm trying to understand , i really am . my time is just far more expandable and i know he's got things that are way important than talking to me underneath the covers or in the car . i just can't help feeling the way i do . it's no one's fault and yet i want to point the finger at someone for causing the tears and scream at the top of my lungs . i want to run out into the dead of the night and collapse on the sidewalk pavement and cry .

but i think that's the only thing that'll work well for the both of us . i'll just be missing him most of the time . what happens when i've watched all the re-runs and read all the literature on my shelf and he's still busy ? what happens then ?




xoxoxoxo ,
soho breaking down .