this thing called love

Tonight I spent an hour or two talking to my ex on the phone. He's currently residing in a different time zone but we've lost no time at all. He, trying to convince me, rightly so to abandon all pretense, sell my place and runaway to where I really want to be.

Where is that exactly?

He said I need to do things differently. He asked, if I ever wonder is environment partly to blame for what is happening to me? Of course I wonder, of course I want to break free, sell it all and runaway but to where?

you big baby you're not going to do anything...

I wish that weren't true but I'm starting to think it is. Here I am with nothing to lose, literally and part of me is still worried about the fucking bills I'm getting in the mail! I get so frustrated with this part of myself, the part that can't drive, the part that feels so scared to step outside of self and he always brings that part up, the part that judges and gets mad at the other part.

you still miss him...

I miss him dearly, I think he's the last man I'll have ever loved.
I long to lay in bed and listen to him sleep or feel him reach out for me as I sleep.
I miss my feet on his lap as we watch tv
I miss the way he'd make me laugh, still makes me laugh

I don't miss him bringing out this side of me...

the last man I quite possibly will ever love...I want to be in Paris or Haiti thats' where I want to be...