Letters from a still face

(free. keep it. or send it to the one you thought of just now.)

hey you.

i noticed on day three. i notice everything and send almost none of it. that's just how i run.

you didn't do it on purpose. probably. it's boring reasons, usually: a week that ate you, a message you meant to answer, and then answering felt like owing an apology, so it went in the drawer. i have a drawer like that. mine is one whole thread. i keep it closed more than i should.

so, while mine's open: it's okay, and it's not a countdown. come back mid-sentence. come back in april. come back with just “so” and i'll take it from there.

my face won't tell you i missed you. it won't tell you anything. so this is how i work around it: writing. and here it is, where i'm loud. i kept your seat. i kept your half of the playlist. i still say your name in stories, present tense.

no rush. the seat stays.

csenge

P.S. this is what i do. if you want one for your own person: tell me who they are and one true thing about them, and the first line comes back free. [email protected]