I haven't felt the need to write to you for a few months now. Well, I have but I've forgotten about this. Life is slowly getting to us. Life is slowly separating us. I miss you, even when I'm with you. We've put ourselves on hold for the rest of the world. It's been a busy month.
I hate having to savor moments with you. I never needed to savor them; I just savored them. Now I feel like we're too busy to just hold onto one another. Our worlds used to eclipse each other. I'd much rather stay in the dark with you than burn under the harsh light of reality.
I miss taking 2 hours to get out of bed. You don't know how good your skin smells between your shoulder blades. I miss watching you make breakfast. I think we're losing our infatuation, and I'm scared. We've both done this too many times to not know what happens after. I hope that we will be different for each other.
