I know. I know.
I'm trying. I'm sorry. I'm such an ass.
This aloof woman living in the house with you? I don't like her either.
I'm here. I'm right here. I swear it. Inside.
Last night when you tried to kiss me and I said no, could you please just leave me alone?
Well, I don't know her. I mean, I heard her voice and recognized it as mine but I swear that I was in there screaming for you except it came out all wrong.
Something in me just gets lost sometimes and I need to find some sort of marker to lead me back.
Got any bread crumbs?
So, I'm asking you, nicely, prettily, hoarsely and with much hope and love:
Will you try again? Or shall I? Because I miss you so much and I am so sorry.
Love always...for twenty seven moons. Or maybe twenty eight.