unread messages // phan.

8

My late night Internet stalking has stopped.
I can't bare not hearing you typing along on your computer,
in the room next door.
Speaking of your room,
I hope you don't mind;
but I sleep in there.
I couldn't bare not having you in my arms,
so I sleep in your smell.
It's the only thing that keeps me sane at night.
Stops me from doing the things I shouldn't,
you know,
getting drunk out of my mind,
...hurting myself.
It doesn't always work.
But knowing you were in this spot.
It helps.
It helps more than you would ever know.
I miss calling through the walls for you,
to help me get through a crisis,
to help me get to sleep,
or to purely hold you.
Because,
I love you, Phil.