You probably won't get this unless you return to the Cuddle Dimension, so I'm going to take advantage of that to be brutally honest.
I miss you. I wait for people to look at me the way you did, or come to me as you would with your arms open, and they don't. I wasn't going to splash out on my new apartment when I moved — the other place was too big without you there to fill it — but I saw a painting in all the hues of your hair. You know how you would dye yours a darker shade but you'd miss a bit and it would come through as a rosy marbling effect, red and pink and purple? It does that. I rested my forehead against it for a while yesterday and tried to talk to you, but nothing came out.
I'm helping name a pizzeria after you. It's such a morbid idea, as if you've died, but whatever. I wanted to call it "In Vino Veritas", heh, but I ... don't think it'll stick.
... I am sorry for leaving you at home, if that's what happens. I didn't mean to upset you while you were here, I was just scared. That's a really weak excuse from a god, right? Maybe I want to fool myself into believing you're listening, the thought itself is a comfort. You know how selfish I am.
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realistics) wrote2015-03-17 02:45 pm
( voicemail unreceived )
You probably won't get this unless you return to the Cuddle Dimension, so I'm going to take advantage of that to be brutally honest.
I miss you. I wait for people to look at me the way you did, or come to me as you would with your arms open, and they don't. I wasn't going to splash out on my new apartment when I moved — the other place was too big without you there to fill it — but I saw a painting in all the hues of your hair. You know how you would dye yours a darker shade but you'd miss a bit and it would come through as a rosy marbling effect, red and pink and purple? It does that. I rested my forehead against it for a while yesterday and tried to talk to you, but nothing came out.
I'm helping name a pizzeria after you. It's such a morbid idea, as if you've died, but whatever. I wanted to call it "In Vino Veritas", heh, but I ... don't think it'll stick.
... I am sorry for leaving you at home, if that's what happens. I didn't mean to upset you while you were here, I was just scared. That's a really weak excuse from a god, right? Maybe I want to fool myself into believing you're listening, the thought itself is a comfort. You know how selfish I am.
See you later, BFF.