September 18, 2006
#158: Six Months
[[A guy stands]]
Guy: It’s been six months and I still have those dreams where you’re pressed tight against me, where you look into my eyes and give me that grin and it’s like you’ve forgotten everything.
Guy: And something in the back of my head says it’s wrong, it’s not like this anymore, but I push it down. In the morning, I tell myself I can’t control my dreams, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want them to stop.
Guy: And honestly, waking up would be a lot easier if your mom didn’t look so much like you.
Guy: There’s always that moment of confusion.