I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to write this. I’m not a poet, and I feel like I’d have to be one to impress upon you what last Sunday was like for me. I feel like to convey how sexy it was I’d have to tell a story…
I’m Scared
Sometimes. Sometimes I’m terrified and sometimes I’ve got a cool certainty that all this is alright, and good, and safe. Usually I’m more confident about things when I’m with Tavi. The more time we spend apart, the more worry seeps in, the more I think about the myriad possible negative…