I’m sitting at work. Clock says 11:48 am. Feels more like 5 o’clock pm. The wind is blowing so hard, it’s easy to predict that it will be a slow day. You’d probably think that people would choose a cold day like this to come get a coffee, go home and snuggle up. Although at least from this coffee shop, that isn’t the case. I hate when I’m not busy because like most people this means that I am thinking. And when I’m thinking, it usually provokes some emotion that I’d rather not feel in the present. Everyday isn’t so bad. It’s really not. I think that I am becoming more and more reclusive though. Turning friends away from fun plans to rather stay home by myself is not normal for me but is becoming more increasingly so.
I just want to talk all night with someone. About everything in the whole world. And laugh…laugh. And finally fall asleep when the first bit of sun approaches the dewy trees from outside. I wish this wasn’t only a reality in fairy tales.