Friday, January 1, 2010

Not being able to talk to you is killing me, deeply. I am dead already. I want to talk to you, to listen to you story, your predicaments, your jokes, your day-to-day experience. I want to laugh silly over nothing with you, exchange opinion, giving opinion, receiving ones. I want to share the secrets, yours, mine, ours. I want to listen to the smile in your voice. I want you to listen to mine.

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