I am twelve hundred miles away from you. eight states away from you.
finally in a bed that has not been touched by you, although it seems as if you've laid with me every night. back when we used to dream about traveling together, we talked about coming here, and I'd show you this run down town, all the places I've been and wanted to go. I'd always hoped that your heart would be as warm as the fire that burned in my eyes when I saw you if you ever came to this town, but I suppose you never quite knew about the fire and you'll never come to this town.
usually around this time at night, everyone is asleep, not only in the house but probably around the neighborhood. I haven't been getting to bed until around two and I'll be honest, I go to sleep with thoughts of you.
I thought I'd be over you by now, if I had any control over my thoughts I bet I would be. I guess I like thinking of you. I never wanted to make a home out of someone, but since you've been gone I feel as if I've been lost, something is missing from my life and maybe it's your arms and the affection I got from only you. it's like I've been homesick for too long, but I don't know why I thought that going farther away from you would help.
I am eight states away from you.
I am twelve hundred miles away from the only thing that I can remember truly feeling like a home.
I miss you