I miss you.

You aren't answering my emails anymore. I think if I wrote and pressed you about it you would say something high-handed like, I hoped you would take my silence as a gentler let-down than I am about to deliver but since you haven't taken the hint... and then you would either write something drunk and long and scathing or something short and sober and completely detached and somehow more scathing. You are really cutting when you want to be. You are really getting it all out now.

You are like a live wire in my head. Just land mines everywhere.

Your absence goes through me like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.