Dear Michael,

Dreaming of you has a certain domino-principle-esque quality to it... In that just one dream, JUST ONE, sends me on a blown out 24/7 thoughts and daydreams buffet of you.

So yes, I thought of you all day today. And all day yesterday. And I'm betting that I'd end up thinking of you all day tomorrow, too.

It happened two years ago and it's happening again now. What's keeping this from totally going out of control is that you are not as accessible as you used to be. Actually, wait that's not true. You are more accessible now. At least, outwardly, it seems that way... But your thoughts and everything else seems like it's locked away somewhere and there's no way for me to get to it.

Actually, wait, it's more like an oxymoron... How you're so close and yet so far. So so far. I would be bothered or saddened by this, but the fact that I am an oxymoron myself, helps a bit. That and I'm also a moron...

I'm moronic enough to think that maybe, just maybe, there's the slightest bit of hope that "we" could actually exist. ...Even if you don't talk to me. Even if you don't look at me. Even if you don't even notice me.

Sigh.

I know I wrote to you about this before and I don't know how or why, but I have this insane notion that this could actually work. I have a strong feeling that if we could just get to that point, that point being "us", then everything would just work. Granted, drama is always good, but "us", my definition of "us", that is, would be so much better. So much more...

...If we could only get to that point.

The point of us.

It seems so close and yet so far... Actually, wait, no... It just seems too far now.

I suppose that's why you insist on invading my dreams... Because that's the only place that you could exist.


As Always,
D.


P.S.: What is it with me and this unbelievable penchant for wanting impossible?