It’s midnight! Dare I write a sentence so drunk the letters drip of vodka and you, in your slackbrowwed wonder, know I stretch the truth?
I know if you saw this, my fingers tracing over these letters, you would fall in love with me again. I know this about you. You could fall in love with me two thousand times and I would stop believing. Your silence is final and my response is, too. But I will stop writing when I feel you have finally walked away. You walk slow. You step softly.
This matters more to you than me. I know this because you know this. I have no idea who I mean for you to be anymore. I could write in the second person to anyone and you’d see it your way. That is what your ego means. And for the record: Carly Simon was right.
Don’t you? Don’t you? Don’t you?