Living in my fright

Not. . . misersaddepression a mix of miserable sad and depression. . . the feeling I get when I am in this position I'm in right now. I'm smart, so I over think. I'm funny, so sometimes I'm a complete ass.

I don't think they are jealous of me at all. I'm falling apart. I really am. My seams are popping out from the pressure that is anger that I am holding in. Jane, I love you. I can't handle you thinking that I don't. I can't handle having been gone for so long and being unable to sleep forever and ever. I don't know what it is. I can't sleep. I'm not tired. I'm not hungry. my throat hurts a bit. I just can't sleep. I need you to call me and talk to me with your voice like sweet honey hitting my ears and making my brain and thoughts sweet again. I need you my sweet love. My sweet perfect. I can't wait. for that day. whether it be the eighteenth. the seventeenth. the sixteenth. a year. Two years. I don't know. I honestly don't know. I've been gone to long. I'm sorry I've been gone so long. but I'm here. I'm back and my spark to write has been refreshed like making candles out of drippings. . . or. something.