I’m in a hotel in a strange place. Without Internet or company. All I can really think about is our trip to San Diego.. How amazing you looked, how amazing we felt. You’re mistaken if you think not talking to me is going to change these feelings. Ya we were together for so long.. Ya we had habits and routines. Yada yada. Regardless though, we were searching for ourselves through it all. And somewhat found substance. I miss staring into your soft eyes in the mornings after too short of sleep. I miss your complaints your whines, your smell and soft sheets. I miss your soft skin and curvy naked figure. Your humor, your attitude, your scorn. Although I’m in a plain room that smells like smoke, nothing is different than any other night. I still close my eyes and hope I wake up with a new life with you. But I’m a realist, and hope is deteriorating, so I just hope to not wake up.