I think I've decided that you (yes, you.), are quite possibly the only thing I aspire to be in life. Besides of course, trying to be more Christ-like and whatnot. But seriously. You inspire me. I sit and I tire of my humdrum daily life (the part before I get home to him, of course), and I am throughly resentful and jealous and pouting.
I sometimes can't remember what I'm doing.
I need to clean out my car,
I need to pack my few remaining belongings,
I need to buy more things for the shop,
I need to just sit in the sun.
But the sun seems to have gone hibernating,
and all I want to do is put on a yummy sweater like yours,
and curl up with a cupcake and loads of icecream and doritos,
and watch things.
I miss them and I miss you,
and if it weren't for a certain Superman we all know and love,
I swear I'd be forced to hang myself from the rafters and just get it over with.
All is mostly dumb and it's chipping away at my happy place.
So much so, in fact,
that the thought of throwing caution to the wind,
and just hauling ass (pardon my french) back to Thomaston sounds really appealing.
I would move in with you and become a bum.
Or maybe your nanny.
But I would miss him too much,
and there-in lies the delimma.
Good thing you're the only one who will read this.