I, at night, have been occupying such a sorrowfully poetic environment that it is nearly impossible and borderline unacceptable for me not to immortalize my encounters, by hand, on bound pages. I knowingly dove headfirst into a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. 900 miles away resides a man smitten with me; I left him wallowing in the dust of a Volkswagen belonging to a man just a tad more exciting at the moment. Barreling through Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, and Kentucky, I knew no regret. Something about the driver to my left veiled my conscience. Was it his spontaneity? His mysterious persona? The way he put a smile on my face with little to no effort? I could continue to list the ‘maybes’, but that would be superfluous. I’m sure the true reason I find myself in his bed nightly, is because I’m aware that I will never enter his heart. One will always chase what they cannot have, it’s true… So I’ll chalk it up to that. Either way, Friday’s sunrise will bring a literal half-world separation between us for another year, and I will return home to the man whose love for me will run down his cheeks as I attempt to console him… as I attempt to console myself. It’s no mystery as to why sleep tends to escape me at night.
*Amber
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