Let me go back to sleep. Submerge me in darkness so I don't remember that I'm here now, alone. My bed is empty and loneliness is rising above the charts. I'm angry and sad and happy and tired and will not be touched in any way, shape, or form for at least two weeks. This sounds sexual, and part of it is, but what I mean most by it is just those little gestures that show you that someone cares. I love being touched; hugs, hands on shoulders, and just about anything else you can think of within the limits of who's doing it. This all sounds so awkward, but it really isn't. Coming from about fifteen hours straight of literally almost no NON-contact, it's a very weird thing to not be touched. And a very weird thing to go to sleep in an empty bed, not to mention actually sleeping. Another weird thing is that my bed doesn't move. One night of a different, glorious place and now my norm is different. I want to go sleep in that water bed that was so warm and have someone next to me the whole time. I want hours upon hours of contact with other people rather than my solitude I'm forced into here.
To top it all off, my addictive personality has decided to find another addiction, though it's one that I cannot fuel by my lonesome. So here we go with perhaps withdrawal. Dear Lord, I hope my weeks pass quickly and we can pull this off again.
Screw off, if you don't know what it is that I'm talking about. This seems like just ramblings that are made up in delirium that isn't so delirious anymore, but it's not. Don't ask. I'm not telling.
Erro
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