Last night, you told me, I sleep-talked. Rolled over and held you and said, "Je veux pas que tu partes. Je veux pas que tu quittes l'Angleterre". And then, as if nothing had happened, fell back into the silence of sleep. I don't remember it. I don't remember any of it. But I meant it. I meant it with my whole heart.
I am going to write a story of some variety, long or short, fictitious or factual, every single day for a year. Wish me luck.
No comments:
Post a Comment