Thursday morning.

And someday when you write down your memoirs far from now
I’ll be the chapter that you choose to leave out

(Michael Møller: The Memory of Motels”) Woke up a bit heartbroken this morning. I remembered all the great times we had, how much fun we used to be. It’s been just about two months now, but with all the things that have been going on, it seems like such a distant past. I no longer miss you day-to-day. But I always miss you on Thursdays when I’m home, having my weekly day off. That’s when I have time to think about my “normal” life, I can shut out the philosophy-thoughts. And that’s when it hurts. That’s when I dream of what we had, and of what I hope we’ll someday have again. Promise me you’ll never forget.


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