I wake with a horrible start, a dull pain in my chest.
I feel as though I'm held down, weighed down, my heart sinking to the floor beneath the bed.
Nightmares that leave me cold.
Nightmares that force me to retrace my thoughts, make me remember to realize I was only sleeping.
You're still here, Georgia's being good to you.
It gets better when I receive your letters.
Once a month, around that time, I cry because I miss you.
Usually just a little, right before I go to sleep.
But I don't have nightmares then.
It helps to hear your voice.
I have to remember to thank Katie Bell a million times over for her suggestion.
I never would have thought of it myself.
They ask me if I'm waiting,
"Yeah." I say, without hesitation.
They search my face with their skeptical eyes, "Really, or are you just saying that?"
I'm not that kind.
I don't believe in "first love"s because I've only ever had one
I don't want any others.
You belong to me.