What am I doing?

Inner peace feels like cherries in spring and the leaves in August. It's like scratching an itch. Like finding a perfect puddle of water.

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Cat Got Your Tongue?

I'm pretty vulnerable. To quote Wonderwall, 'There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know ho-o-ow', and it's so true.

AAAARRRGHHHHH why is every word that comes out of my mouth another slice of evidence that proves I'm an idiot? I'm supposed to be a writer, but in reality the words catch in my throat and I end up awkward as a penguin in a desert, struggling to say the things I really want to say.

It's terrifying.

***

I had a dream the other night where I was watching the sunset with you. I touched your hand and woke up, and I have never wanted to fall back asleep more in my life. If I ever get the chance in reality, I'm sure my world will collapse the moment your palm touches mine. There is no way that you exist in my reality, and no way for me to explain what I don't believe.

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