That Point

At some time every day I get exhausted with work, with pretending, and all I want to do is look at pictures of you, talk to you, think about you, cry about you.

Random emails and IMs to you used to get me through the day and make me smile and excited to see you. And now those are gone.

And I just realized the point at which I give up and look for you each day is right around the time you call me and say you are on your way home from work and ask what I am doing.

Sad face.

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