I wake up, go to work, come home, iron my clothes, pack my lunch, maybe drink a beer, maybe see mark, go to bed by 10ish.

Every day. And I’ve been happy. a lot happier than I was at first. I’m getting used to it, and I’m okay with this new way of life. This early morning, responsible, career type life. A few hours before bed each day is all I get. Weekends and such are 1/2 there. I’m fine.

But I don’t feel like I’m in the middle of an adventure. And you really messed my mind up. You are back in my mind and I think about missing you and I think about asking you to get coffee and just talk with me, but then I remember how you treated me and what I have now and I can’t let myself get like that.

It’s really over.
As happy as that makes me.
As sad as that makes me.

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