I Miss You

I put on a really good face. I do. I pretend I’m fine. I tell myself I am fine. I try to fuck the pain away. But, I miss you.

I miss my dad. Terribly, he was the man.

I miss Canary more then words can ever actually express. Her picture is my phone’s wall paper. I do it to remind myself I did something right. I do it to remind myself to take the calls I hate, work extra hours, so when my daughter comes home she comes home to more.
My missing her, is most important.

Dad too.

But,I miss you. I miss the way your words turn me to jelly. I miss the jokes we share. The dark and secret language we use only with each other. I miss how you are my nepenthe. I miss the way loving you made me feel secretly powerful.
I think somehow I feel you watching me, listening for my voice. You’re like watching over me somehow.

Do you miss me too? Give me a sign…

Lately, I have been to the hospital twice, with “severe” head trauma. It’s not as serve as the head night nurse makes it out to be. I think she’s more concerned because I’m a mother than anything. She makes call “someone” to pick me up. I do, call. Then I hop the train and head on my merry way.
I do things not many understand but, the few that do. I love you.

I’ve been wearing panties lately, toying with the idea of selling them. What a way to earn mad money! The problem is if you factor in panty cost. Most of the guys I’ve come across won’t buy it.

Face it panty fetishist, a “good” pair of panties is anywhere from $10-20
Being cheap only assures you will get blown off or a cheap pair from walmart that barely holds any scent!

Just saying….