She was a Beautiful Child

My Love for You

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 05:10:01 GMT

You see little slips
of my love,
hidden in poetry.

I shouldn't hide it,
like I do.
So i'm writing.

The doubts in my
mind are clouded,
by happiness.

There is nothing i
could say, do, or think,
to make you understand how this feels.

Sometimes I can't even
look at you,
because I'm smiling.

I didn't want to be
the one left,
feeling dumb.

but as god has showed me,
everyone can use a little,
heartache.

and baby, if you break it,
it's okay,
because you fixed it in the beginning.

It's times like these that,
I hate women...
when they get like this.

But I feel...
...Like...
I AM love...and it hurts.

Fiction/Non Fiction.

Thu, 24 Jan 2008 17:28:52 GMT

"How hard do you think it was for me to sit on that shower floor. The burning water on my spine, reminding me that I don't have one. How hard do you think it was?" The second time she asked, she didn't just ask, she begged. He just stared at her wondering if it was a trick question.
"I don't know...not hard at all" His voice trembled at her accusing glare.
"Wrong. Why do people think it's easy, to just do something like that, like there isn't a fight involved at all, like I was a total piece of shit." She was yelling now.
"Well, then what is it really like?" She laughs at him, and it echoes in his ears.
"You really want to know?"
"yes. I Do."
"I usually make the decision to cut hours before I do it. And spend the time in between weighing my choices. My options. But somehow it usually goes in favor of mutilation. So I get a fresh razor, start the shower, and get in. Sometimes I lean against the shower wall, but when it's really bad, I lay down, or kneel. The cutting itself isn't the hard part at all. That's simple. I just hold the razor aginst my skin, and pull until it catches my skin. And I do it over and over until I feel better. It really is satisfying, to know that all the pain, and guilt you felt, can pour out of your wrists, legs, chest, wherever. I don't expect you to understand it at all, but it's my addiction. Mine."
"I understand more than you know, because you are my addiction, and I would do anything to be with you, even if it takes being the person you yell at"

Wrote a song

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 04:03:10 GMT

breathe him in deep,
the memories from his scent
just won't leave her.
Hugging from behind,
Those hands find their place
and before it's to late...she pauses...and rewinds.

She's sitting,
always crying.
She's Kissing,
always crying.
She's wrong,
She's always wrong.

That song in the background,
finds it's way back
into her bed and makes a terrible sound.
That sickening smile,
burns it's way into her future,
and her scream is heard for miles.

She's sitting,
always crying.
She's Kissing,
always crying.
She's wrong,
She's always wrong.

The devil broke her body,
and she won't smile until she's walked through hell.

She's sitting,
always crying.
She's Kissing,
always crying.
She's wrong,
She's always wrong

Asshole

Sat, 22 Dec 2007 21:31:00 GMT

is that really how you feel for me,
well, honey I do too.
If I could put two inside of me,
I'd do it just for you.
It's great to know your best friend hates you,
for being happy now.
I'm sorry you couldn't do that for me,
and i'm sorry if i'm not down.
But if you think i'm gonna foget this,
you won't be given another chance.
I remember how you left me,
and honey, i'm not doing this dance.
I've found me other friends,
and someday soon i'll get away.
I'll leave you far behind me,
and tomorrow start a new day.
Now rhyming is the last thing I do,
but you have driven me to it.
And If you pull a gun on you,
I won't care one bit.
Because I have my share of guilt,
and i'm doing quite a bit better.
and if you think you want to kill me too,
then you can write shakespear your letters.
It's sad that this is how it has to be,
but it was your choice.
I tried to play nice,
I tried to give you a voice.
So as you ride off into that sunset,
remember whose the outlaw.
Because baby, you've messed with me,
and I'm the badest mother you ever saw.

TAKE THAT ASSHOLE!

8 Years

Sat, 22 Dec 2007 21:29:02 GMT

S-s-so tthis is wh-a-at it feels like,
to be a-alone?
I look in the mirror.
He has dropped off the last of my belongings.

I collapse against my plain white wall.
and I take a swig,
from my newly aquired flask.
It numbs my pain.

I look at all my clothes,
and I watch him carry my memories,
in through the door,
and dump them on my floor.

I am cold,
because I have to be.
I act like i'm fine with it all,
Like I'm a big girl.

His last words.
"see you around shannon"
He was colder than I could
ever be.

My door slams,
and I realize where I am.
How did I get here.
And why can't I breathe?

The only man I have ever loved,
told me he'd see me around.
I think back to the moment I fell out of love.
Tried to bring those feelings of hate back.

But I feel noting but sadness,
because I have to be an adult,
I have to care for myself,
when I don't care at all.

I take it back,
my mind tells me.
I don't want to be alone,
I think about caving.

Calling the man,
whose heart I stomped.
Because I didn't think he could
take care of me.

I still don't,
but I sure as hell can't.
I can't even stop crying,
or even stand.

Now I have to rely on a woman,
for once.
I have to rely on the worst one,
Me.

I think back to highschool,
I was still taken care of by men.
Middle school?
For god's sake, Elementry school?

How do I always go from having
it all,
to having all
of nothing.

I'm scared,
completely and,
utterly...
Scared shitless.

Katie Mech Part 2

Sat, 22 Dec 2007 21:27:49 GMT

Do You ever think
how easy it could be...
To succeed, to go through with it.

As much as we want it,
we are too scared...
to take the final steps

We are still young enough,
to think that...
There is still time to change.

But what happens,
when we don't...
don't improve with time?

What a day that will be,
when we give up...
completely.

Part of me honestly
thinks it will happen...
part of me wants to be happy.

But we are both,
too aware to which part...
is stronger.

It gets bad,
now and again...
as we know.

And when it does,
I think of you...
Pray that you are safe.

But whatever makes
you happy dear...
I won't stop you.

I'm in your shoes,
as much as...
you are in mine.

But I love you,
In a pure sence...
Just like you to know.

That you're here,
in my heart...
when I need you.

Fufill My Dreams

Sat, 22 Dec 2007 21:26:08 GMT

You want to,
give up on your dreams...
Just to be happy?

That's crap.
You know that's what,
you never wanted to be.

What a whimp You are,
to give in,
to society.

You'll never know,
If you don't get,
the fuck out of here.

You've been through
harder obstacles,
why is this any different?

Push out these thoughts,
so you can go back to,
the beautiful people.

Be the one who,
gives up happiness,
to finally fufill your dreams.

"In Memory"

Mon, 17 Dec 2007 21:51:49 GMT

( Standing, and talking to a crowd. Mid forties)
Steven: There are a lot of things that still remind my of her ( his thin body shakes, with the force of holding back tears). When I wake up in the morning, and comb my hair, I still see strands of her long gold curls. She was such a beautiful woman. It breaks my heart to know that I won't get to spend the rest of my life with her, but I am grateful she had the chance to spend the rest of hers with me. I'm trying to be as uplifting as possible, because I know She wouldn't have it any other way. She would want there to be music playing, and maybe children coloring, instead of paying attention, kind of like church. But we all know that such a wonderful woman, needs to be mourned, as almost common courtesy. But this is not how she wanted to go, this is not how she wanted to be remembered. Normal people like us hope for nothing more than to die in our sleep, next to the person they loved. But she always told me, she said 'Steven, I want to go in a plane crash...' (He starts to break up) ...'or a scuba accident...or maybe even a land slide.' She said she wanted er last moments on earth to be exciting."
(He shakes his head, and we realize, he was not in front of a crowd, but standing in front of a mirror, practicing. He shrinks to the floor, and stares blankly into the glass.)
"Baby...Baby I can't do this without you. I can't be the same man, I can't breath, or eat, or clean without your smile, without your hands." (He stands, and turns to the sink to pick up his brush. He stares at it for a second, and then pulls out a long blonde strand of hair) "What do I do, When You have disappeared completely. When Your perfume is gone, when I get older and your memory fades. What will I be then? Nothing, I am nothing without you. Nothing."

your kind

Sat, 01 Dec 2007 19:14:50 GMT

As a combined effort,
your sex has finally killed me to the core.
I've been love by you.
I've been hit by you.
I've cried over you,
and yet I've devoted my life to you.

Making the same mistakes,
as women before me.
Relying on your kind,
Your Piece of Shit kind.

Wanting friendship,
wanting so much more than sex.
Can you really just love a woman?
Have we been conditioned to think it's possible,
by these pathetic "chic flicks"
But i'll go back to you.

To the men that accuse me,
of being worthless.
To the men that accuse me,
Of not trying hard enough.

Well, this one...
This hole, this red, this pain,
This is for you.
Enjoy it, watch me suffer.
Watch me turn into what I never wanted to be,
Watch me die.

Peices of shit!

Feel Like a woman

Mon, 26 Nov 2007 01:23:52 GMT

Drinking wine in the dark,
candles lit, shaved legs.
Why?
Because I can.

Sexy hair,
great smelling lotion.
No worries,
because i'm free.

Dancing in the living room,
a cute outfit.
No man can make me feel,
as pretty as I feel now.

I may giggle,
I may sing at the top of my lungs.
Pamper myself,
Lift my self-esteem.

Bliss.

Thanksgiving

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 15:18:53 GMT

Yea, what a great holiday, giving thanks. but that's not what it is, it's eating WAY too much food for your own good, then regretting it in the morning. It's always been a crappy day for me. But at least I get off work that's a bonus, right? well I think so. Have fun today fatties. i'll be eating my soul away.

: (

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 19:56:23 GMT

Lost my wings

How I Wish things could Go.

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 19:09:20 GMT

"Why Are you Drinking? Why are you upset, you always shut down, why can't you just talk to me?"

(Do you think people really try to get through to me? I don't, If they did, they would see the things I write, and listen, to my words. Though I'm not speaking to you, I still mean it.)

Why is he focusing on all my faults right now, when that's the exact same thing I'm doing. So I just sit here in silence. Nod when I gave to and grunt where needed. Because he takes that to mean I don't need him or anyone else for that matter, and what I need more than anything is someone. Someone I can tell everything to. Someone I can tell my deepest lies to. but i'm falling apart, and men take that to mean that they fucked up, and they should leave me. And THAT is fucking up! I'm so angry, I left the one man, who was FINALLY starting to get it. But I don't want to be with him. At all. I want him to be here. but not with me. I'm rambling in my thoughts again. i can see him starring at me in my doorway. He want's reasurrance, but i cannpt give it.

"well, I guess I'll go since you obviously don't want me here."

Yea, which Is why I'm dating you, because I don't want you here. GODDDDDDDDDDD why are men so angry. Sometimes I wish I liked women, because at least they get it most of the time. But I don't I like men. Stupid, asshole, jurk men.

Story of my life.

I wanna go home...

Grace and faith.

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 18:53:57 GMT

I need some grace, and it will be the first time in years since i've fallen back on it. Would it be saving like it used to be? I feel weak, not angry. not depressed. Not sad...weak. I feel weak. and as much as i'd like faithto solve all my problems, it won't. When I was younger, faith to me was watching prince of egypt once a week, and going to church every sunday. Faith now is having faith that i'll be able to function tomorrow. That can't be right. Why do we loose our faith as adults, and how do some people just stand strong?

Coping again

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 18:41:35 GMT

Coping has never been my thing, it's not my forte. When I get bad, I know it. I start dreaming a lot. When I'm happy I stop dreaming all together. Some people understand that I cannot cope, and some people get angry wondering why I do this to myself. And my responoce is always simple "Do you honestly think I want to be unhappy" That May be true, And it may not be, who really knows. I guess I don't. My mind tends to play tricks on me, sometimes allowing me to be intelligent, but for the most part leaving me dumb as dirt. So As I sit here on a sunday morning, drinking my heart out, I pray for people who don't understand themselves, and have no clue where they will be in a month from now.

Doc

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 15:47:57 GMT

Same routine. I show up thirty minutes early, and flip through one of the cooking magazines, look at all the stuff people say I miss out on. People are pigs. Eating this shit. I’ve got too many things to be worrying about for me to care weather I enjoy a ten layer truffle made of pure fat. As the time passes, I wonder why I never see anyone else enter or exit. Sure, that makes me want to spill my guts to a stranger. The lights are all very dim, to sooth people. I hate to admit it did help. The colors are all in blue’s and light green’s, almost like a baby’s room. Someone obviously went way above and beyond to make people comfortable, I wonder if it worked? I couldn’t tell you if it helped me at all, my palms were like a sauna.
“Are you ready” A larger woman, came out of an even dimer lit room, and smiled at me.
I didn’t say anything, (not a good start) I just went in, found my chair, and hugged a pillow until I couldn’t breath.
“Well, how was your week? Are you eating better? Did you do that thing we talked about last week?” She irritated me. Her enthusiasm for my problems was a bit sickening.
“Yea, I’ve been trying to” Translation...No
“Good, have you been listening to happier music?” I knew I should have never told this lady about my music.
“Uhm, Yea.” Translation...no. What am I getting out of this again? Thirty minutes of a fat lady looking at a skinny girl, and wonder why possibly don’t I love food as much as she obviously does. I hated the way she looked at me. I’m here so in ten years when I complain about my mother never paying attention to me, she’ll have the right to say ‘I put you in therapy for two months, and it cost me a fortune’. That is why I’m here.
“What are your plans tonight?” Wow, did she really go to school so she could ask me things like ‘what are your plans tonight’?
“Probably just go to sleep when I get home”
“It’s seven o’clock?”
“I know, I like to sleep. It makes me happy” Truth, no need to lie about sleeping habits.
“Well you should try to hold off for a while, maybe go home and eat with your family, I’m sure they’d love that.” Eat with my family? Ha. So we can all sit around and watch survivor while eating Arby’s? This woman actually makes me want to go home, listen to some depressing music, cry myself to sleep, and perhaps never eat again.
“Oh, Our times up.” She smiles and ushers me to the door. As I walk out I wonder why I haven’t killed myself yet? I wonder If I did she’d rethink her career?

In Her Shoes

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 15:46:35 GMT

I take showers,
three at a time.
To wash away my thoughts.

It works well,
but there isn’t always a shower,
my new remedy.

There is always a new remedy.
A quick fix, some good thoughts.
But never a cure.

Seeing the world as black and white,
everyone white.
Me black.

What a self-centered view point.
To be the only unhappy person,
that’s not fair.

Is that what people think?
That I’m selfish.
I know it is.

I try to tell myself I don’t care.
But I do.
Why are people so cruel?

I don’t bother you,
so why am I your focal point,
for all things evil.

I’m so held back,
it’s hard.
Why can’t I do anything.

I can’t take,
my lack of supervision,
always wanting to take advantage.

But there is always that fear,
that someone will see.
Hate me for being selfish.

The Truman show.
That’s how I feel,
everyone watching...

But no one helping.

Laugh Baby Laugh

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 15:44:36 GMT

She didn't have time,
that was the song.
Honey baby dear,
Makes me wanna scream.

Don't be a pansy,
I tell myself.
Hahahaha,
Just give in.

I love it,
no really,
I love it.
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one.

Good for me,
Right?
You don't know
what I'm saying!

haha,
I love it,
Code.
Read into to it.

I Am By Krysteen Hermandez

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 21:15:54 GMT

I am a poet writing of my pain.
I am a person living a life of shame.
I am your daughter hiding of depression.
I am your sister making a good impression.
I am your friend acting like I'm fine.
I am a wisher wishing this life wern't mine.
I am a girl who thinks of scuicide.
I am a teenager pushing her tears aside.
I am a student who doesn't have a clue.
I am the girl sitting next to you.
I am the one asking you to care.
I am your best friend hoping you'll be there.

Hadn't Had You

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 21:10:40 GMT

Sitting on a couch
staring at the people.
I don't think i've been here before.
I know him, him, him, and her,
everyone else is a blur.

It didn't used to be like this,
the highlight was truth or dare.
the exsillerating first kiss.
Trying so hard to fit in by wearing the right clothes.

Back on the couch.
I've trading kissing for beer,
the kissing is now free,
I take my kisses now,
not recieve them.
We all pay a price for "love" eventually.
Is anyone above the influence.

I wish I could take back the clothes,
take back the kissing,
erase all the beer,
but most of all I wish I hadn't had you

Coping Naturally

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 21:02:47 GMT

not glowing,

my flame has been put out,

like water on a bonfire.

No more alcohol for now,

no more drugs, no more

razors for me baby;

I have to cope naturally for a while.

Not my choice,

but my only one at that.

I want that flame back,

and I want back myself.

I got stolen somewhere along the way,

from here to hell.

Perhaps i've always been me,

but am gone so often I can't tell.

I go now to my new home,

my queen bed, in a dark room.

to dream, and to hope,

that maybe,

possibly,

I won't wake up this time.

God will feel pitty,

on my torchored body.

My mind is still good,

perhaps it just needs a new vessel.

But alas,

no men for my coping,

no pills can i take either.

It will be a long week,

A long NEW YEAR.

Resolutions are mute,

but I encourage you to find you own.

You always seem to forget

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 21:02:07 GMT

I always forget,

The way it feels.

No matter how long it's been.

A month,

two weeks?

I never deal with the pain,

because there is none.

I guess some will say i'm psycotic,

I say, to hell with them.

The things I do to myself...

are the things people do everyday.

Mine is just in physical form.

Is mutilation wrong,

when it's your own soul your destroying?

Some would say so.

But it's no different than lying,

lying hurts just as much.

I'd rather have a physically abusive relationship with myself,

than a mentally abusive one with anyone else.

There is always prayer,

there is always God...

there is always this.

Trying to pull through it all

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 20:54:56 GMT

Trying to pull through it all

Ignorance

I should except who I am,

I need to quit complaining.

I am

Why do we want what we don’t have?

I want

I pretend to be hurt, maybe I am.

God tends to see it all,

he blesses the ones who call upon him.

To damn bad I never ask for

Why is my goal to be something big,

when I am nothing at all.

I am a

I have gotten down to

But I remember when it was once a month,

like I remember when gas was cheap.

I have found rhyming is ignorance now-a-days,

so when I write, it should be

It is the only part of my psyche that is free.

I’m trying to pull through a bad day right now.

We all do it.

But I have the gene that causes me to be on the

is bliss.beautiful.pain.help.suicidal attention whore.bad days every week. free.weak end of my tug-of-war.

Shannon Hall

I’m learning to be comfortable with my body,

but a person can only learn so much.

Cowboy and City Girl

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 20:37:09 GMT

A cowboy and his city girl

He holds the door open to his truck.

She climbs in, rolls her eyes.

He tucks her in at night.

She would never do that for him.

He holds her head up,

because she is abusive.

He calls her to see where she is,

She never answers.

He loves her.

She..loves him.

Time goes by,

Time to move on.

City girl shed’s a tear...

But moves on.

He knows she has done this,

But he will always keep her in his heart.

She will be in the city, lying still in her bed,

all alone, and going nowhere.

But that cowboy will be out in his truck,

looking at the stars, and waiting for the day

she call’s and asks for help.

He will ride up on that horse, and set her down

in the clouds.

What will she do?

Be lost. Stubborn.

She will never call.

She will not be saved.

About Last night

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 20:29:33 GMT

So here I am driving to the place I promised I would never go again, and I don’t think I will after this visit. But what’s going on through my head? ‘Does he even care’? Those words float in my head as I here the song coming on that has his name written all over it. Does he care? I knew the answer, ‘no’ , it’s always no. But I drive there, in a good mood knowing exactly what the night entails.

I get to what I and all my friends, (as well as the people who go to this place)call hell. I truly believe it is. What If hell really is the place that you loathed the most? If it is, I’m stuck in a tiny dorm room with plain white walls in the middle of nowhere for eternity. That is assuming God has given up on my soul, he probably knew my demise was coming way before I was born. Lets hope I come to my senses soon, so I really don’t have to go back to this place ever again.

Once here I make small talk with all of the people I will probably never see after tonight. They look bad, most of the girls look like they haven’t eaten in weeks. This place is hell. Everyone else seems to look ok, but that’s because they are counting down the days till they leave. I am here to see the show and catch up on old times, but come to think of it, I hate old times, and I the show I came to see is directed by a man who ‘doesn’t really care’.

The show starts at seven, and I sit by a lot of people who don’t really like me. The lights dim, and I already know it’s going to be a good show. The cast isn’t that great, the theater is freezing, and there set is a little odd, but when intermission hits I am oddly surprised of how much I laughed my ass off. But as much as I loved the show, I needed something, I was too uncomfortable with the people around me. So I got Don’s (a cast member) to come sit on my lap and watch the show. She spilled coke on my white skirt ten minutes into the second act, but she was so cute, I didn’t care. She proceeded to tell me that the "bad man on stage must not know there are kids in the audience", because he kept saying words like bastard, and son of a bitch. I pointed to Chris, and said "he’s my favorite, I think he’s cute" She giggled and said I was wrong. The show ended, and Colleen and I went to change clothes to go to Jimmer-Jammers (a country club). We were in a hurry because we heard if you go before ten you get in free, and I had a dollar in my pocket.

Upon entering the desolate club(it was only 10:00), I went to say hi to some people I knew, and turned to Colleen and asked her where Jordan(the DJ) would be at. She obviously pointed out the DJ’s booth over the dance floor. So we both went to sit up there with Josh and Jordan. It was dull for a while, until Chris showed up, and people started dancing. Eventually Colleen and I decided that we needed to be drunk too, and because we weren’t 21, we went to the cast party at Don’s house. Unfortunately as soon as we got there everyone started leaving, so we grabbed some drinks and headed back to the club. It was a long night, and I wasn’t near drunk enough to dance with anyone I didn’t know, so I danced with Jordan for a little while, and I danced with Sammy’s boyfriend, who she should not be with judging on the way he was holding me. Then Chris started hitting on this cute tiny red-head, so I tried to block it out by dancing with Jordan some more. It worked for a while until it was time to leave, and the little red-head wouldn’t leave him alone. I let him drive, and he went back to Don’s house. I sat there sober, and watched all these people drinking, and I just couldn’t bare to throw back anything strong. So I sat and listened to Randy, and Josh play the guitar why I sang along. There was a group in the living room, a group in the Garage(doing drugs), and a group gathered around Chris’s computer listening to mixes that he had made. It was too much for Don to handle, so he said everyone should get to home. Dealing with Chris was such a pain in the ass. He groping my butt in the car, and I just wanted to put him to bed. Colleen drove my car back to the school, and Colleen, Denim and Josh got out. I got in the drivers seat and drove him home, and got my pj’s, and straightener out of the backseat, and followed him up the stairs.

Once in, I told him I was going to the bathroom to change into my pajama pants, and then we could go to bed. After peeing, and putting on my pants there was a knock at the door.

"I’m gonna take a shower" he said in a child-like voice

"Ok" I said, still not over the jealousy, and the fact he was acting like a kindergartner (a cute kindergartner)

"Come with me" He said with his adorable face, and half naked body.

"Chris I just got dressed"

"Well I’ll help you" He pulled down my pink pajama pants, and removed my silky white halter-top. Those damn adorable freckles, and the fact that I feel so small next to his huge body.

"I hate you" as he turned on the shower. He came back, and grabbed chin with his hand, and kissed me just the way I liked it.

Before I go on, what is this charade? Why can’t he hit on me in public now? He’s single.

But it’s not like we are going to move away together. We are the worst couple ever. We are exactly the same. It’s sick the way we treat people. But at the same time, when he’s about to kiss me, and I can see the brown in the middle of his blue eyes, and when he holds me I stand on my tip-toes to lean on his shoulders to get an up close view of his freckles, I forget what terrible people we are.

He picks me up and puts me in the shower with ease. He washes me from head to toe, the toes being my favorite part, because no one has ever washed my feet.

"That’s a sign of respect" I giggled.

"Is it?"

"Jesus did it to his disciple’s" then I frowned thinking this must be blasphemy speaking the lords name while your naked in the shower with a man who isn’t my husband. He washed me off, and then he grabbed my face again. He got close like he was going to kiss me, and whispered.

"Take me to bed" He turned off the shower, and gave me the towel, and a pair of his pants.

"Ok I’m giving you these pants to wear if you promise not to steal these." It’s true I have his other sweat pants, but I looked better in them than he does. Plus they’re super comfy. I didn’t get any sleep, and I left really early so I could get back and go to sleep in my own bed. This time I actually told him I was leaving, instead of sneaking out at eight o’clock. I kissed his cheek, and jumped on top of him to wake him up.

"I’m going home"

"No" he argued

"Yes"

"Why"

"So I can take a nap" He looked shocked, and pointed to the pillow next to him.

"I’m wired right now, but after driving for two hours I’ll be able to sleep."

"Okay, well Miss Hall, be careful going home" I smiled, kissed him again, and told him goodbye.

Now five hours since I’ve been home, I have a sore stomach, sore body, and another broken heart.