Three Months in One Letter
I’ll never see you again, though. The creamy clouds hang over the mountains and I wonder if you are there. Far away from here. From Eddie the bird and Chow the cat and the ranch-style house in a neighborhood not far at all from mine.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?