From the Mountain Tops in First Journal

I love you, babe. I want to shout of from the mountain tops, out my window in my room, in the shower instead of singing to myself and most of all so you can hear it loud and clear. You know, though, that I would do anything for you. So I’ve left you alone for you and because its whats best at this juncture. I’m going to do things I regret in the future while we are apart. I wonder sometimes if I by letting it sit I’m fucking it up or respecting the space is whats best. Time will tell. A measurement of movement that we base our lives on will tell. Once enough things have moved maybe I can move on or you will move back into my orbit. Time. Can we fast forward this shit? I want to be caught up on bills and saving and knowing whether you will ever look at me like you used to. LOVE YOU, YOU FUCKER! heh.