Rule No. 11: In the waiting line.

After silence you start again. I had written you off. I assumed we were finished writing the book. The final chapter had come and gone. I built too quickly (why do I always build so quickly?)

And then you start again.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

Heart leaps.

Answer.

Wait.

More torment. I avoid the sweet. I know the sweet will be my downfall. That is not the story we are to write.

Friend. My friend.

Stay with me please.

I ran today. You flashed in and out of my mind, like you do. I could almost feel you beside me. I could almost touch you. But it was all in my mind. On my own.

My mind.

Such a scary place sometimes. Most of the time. Moments of brilliance mixed with moments of deep dark and twisty.

The mania.

The dark side of the mania.

I don’t care. I love it.

The way your hand feels in mine. When I comment how funny it is that I always walk behind and you tell me to walk next to you.

I want to walk next to you.

I might be unworthy.

You woke me up. You told me we were going on a journey. I begged for the journey. Are we there yet? How much farther do I need to go? How big is this rabbit hole anyways?

I want more now. I didn’t want more before. You can’t unknow what you’ve finally realized.

I wonder if everyone else is awake like me. Do they know what they are chasing when they turn their back on their loved ones to chase a temporary high? Do they know what it provides for them? What happens when you are awake and you choose the same path?

Does this mean you really are wicked?

Questions. Always questions. Very rarely answers. You know what they say- curiosity killed the cat. Bang bang, baby.

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