I was scared. I was scared I liked you more than you liked me. I was scared I’d lose services. I was scared I’d get called out and held responsible for all the therapists sleeping with younger patients. I’m still scared of your Mom. She yells at people before even meeting them. Your Dad brushes everything under the rug and lied straight to my face. Fight or flight is a bit more disastrous and precipatory when the two options before you are the electric chair and just fading into the population. (4:51a and it’s out!)

Talk about increasing efficiency! I’m not even halfway done my coffee yet. I’m still over here hoping still, baby. We’re not worried about that today! Today’s post “wants” to trigger the antagonists and call out the establishment for putting undue intimidation into the air. “You still got my heart, bro!” I’m anticipating you finding a way to comfort me/ help me breathe through saying “I love you too,” “Yes, I do LIKE you,” and getting a way to get in touch with you where I don’t need to send a snail mail letter to you, wait a week and never hear back.


Coffee II. Poured!
I have slightly let go of half-anticipating you popping up when there are no cars in the driveway, ensuring privacy. That’s to save my heart and to get these jokers in my house to stop overreacting to me glazy-eyed looking out the window. (I’M STILL RIGHT HERE BABY. COME AND GET ME! I HOPE SOMEONE SHARES THIS POST WITH YOU IF YOU’VE YET TO START READING THEM YOURSELF!) Thanks

I’m still crazy about “someone special to me!” I’m going to hear about this post for a month because individuals think I’m being immature by trying to be your Romeo, Juliet! I still see you in my dreams. Ha, those that are bothered by this note to you, are just jealous no man shows them this much dedication! I’m ok with that.