You know I hate hot weather. And cold rain on my sides. And not being around you.
But, it's hot, and I'm away from you, and I feel really anxious. And needy. And selfish for wanting time with you when you have so much going on.
Oh, and I need to tell you this: I don't think you're feeling neglectful of me, but if you are, don't, because A. you're not and B., well, things are just the way they have to be. A person can only fill herself up with so much. That sounded vaguely dirty.
I have two dreams to tell you about. One mine, and one not mine.
No apples this time.
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