No matter how many times I fly, airplanes make me nervous, the bad kind of nervous. Once I'm up in the clouds it's not so bad, but the beginning and the end feel so much like each other, shaky and violent.
Before every call, I'd be a nervous mess, but once I heard his voice I knew I'd be ok. He would always be watching videos or listening to music. I love the way he sings, the way he laughs, the way he looked at me, and how easily he would blush. He would laugh at my stupid jokes, and that would make me feel happy and warm.
My mom calls my room a "cave", and gets annoyed if I spend the whole day there. My cave feels less... like a hiding spot and more like a hug now, I decorated it with some of my paintings, posters, and things I've bought in previous travels. But there's someone who's extra special to me, I call her Rose, she is a glow in the dark plastic star. About a year ago, I would talk to Rose for hours at night, it was oddly comforting.
It's strange now, Rose is there, but gone too, she doesn't talk, and neither can he. And I'm afraid to go to a psychologist and tell them I talk to inanimate objects, afraid to tell them about the box full of letters I wrote him. Am I crazy for wanting to stay in denial while I wait for him?
I miss when he would sing me a lullaby to help me sleep.
Love, AD
