I thought I was over it. I mean, I am, just not as over as I thought. I still miss you and I keep making excuses and imagining other reasons other than the ones you gave me.
I had another dream last Friday. Two weeks in a row, it must be a new record, 'cause I don't usually have dreams with people I know. Specially not twice. Specially not for two Fridays. Specially not with you.
I know that I miss you. I always knew it, but today, somehow, it became real. I actually missed you. I missed our talks, mostly; I misses being with someone who makes me comfortable. I didn't want to write another text bitching about it, but I couldn't help myself. I also felt it should be in English 'cause it feels clearer and easier to write.
Guess I was trying to fool myself pretending everything was OK. Actually, everything is OK, i don't want you thinking that it isn't (I know, that was lame). One of these days we were talking about you and we figured that you could be just my imagination... I you were, because then anti-psychotics could help. I don't really know what to think now. I don't even know what is this that I'm feeling!
It's the Witch-king's wound on Frodo's shoulder. It will never fully heal. From time to time the pain will come back. We either live with it till we're done living here, or the witch comes back and finishes the job...
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