(11/14/10 – Day 111)

Today I decided to curl up with a good book.
I can see the leaves still falling from the trees from my bedroom window.
The setting is perfect, low R&B music, Elmo slippers, romantic tales in my hand.
The soul of Philadelphia flowing all through my apartment.
Reminiscing about our conversation a couple of days ago,
Setting the image that I am still a strong individual without…
That I can still smile without you holding my hand or
That I can still laugh without you tickling me…
I wonder when he hugged me if he could feel his scent still caressing my neck
or feel his lip prints tattooed on my neck.
I’m trying my best to read this book, but I keep wondering about him
Does this mean that I am obsessed?
Or even addicted…
I thought I was addicted to love
And he gave me what I wanted, just to snatched them all away
I need to pull myself together
until someone knocked on my door,
the same pattern of when he knocks on the door…
What do I do now?

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