Dear Michael,
They finally let me go after a week. I got so little sleep this past week, I feel as if I'm a living dead. The only thing getting me through this horrid week at the hospital was you, my dear. You sat beside my bed and slept with me. Even though it was such a small squeeze, it still felt like home. Home is where you are Michael, but right now I'm not home. I'm at my parents home, and you aren't here right now. I don't know where you went. Maybe you went to our small apartment because you felt unwelcome with my family. I wish you would stop leaving so abruptly. You seem to disappear every time my mother ot father come around.
I need you right now Michael. I need you to tell me why waking up was so important. Why did you want me to wake up just so you could leave me so often. I need to see you Michael. Texting you just is never going to be the same as holding you.
My parents look at me so strangely when I smile at my phone screen. "Who are you texting?" My mom will ask me. I'll tell her it's you, and she gets this look every time I say it. It's a look that consists of sadness, confusion and most of all, fear. Why does she give me such expressions? You're my boyfriend and she acts like my texting you is a horrid thing.
Please come to me as soon as you get this, my sweet Michael. Maybe even before. I just miss you so much. You are my drug and I cannot be without you for this long. I may go crazy. I will end this note the same way I've ended many others in the past. I love you, you crazy haired boy. With all my heart.
Love,
Elora
