#writesperation

We were on this stretch of road when you got the call and I heard you gasp in disbelief you hung up and told me she was gone too soon

I’ll never forget how I felt what I was wearing, the way the trees looked the silence between us the questions I had- how cold the air felt on my face as it skimmed out of the vent 

it’s 3 AM and I’m sitting here across from you, drunk, drained and crying over a plate of scrambled eggs and home fries why do I let it get to me? I ask as I try and fail to get ketchup out of the bottle another tear finds it’s way down my cheek and neck; I swirl the straw listlessly around my glass

a few drinks can lead to many things but in this case, it was one of those nights where words were unsaid and the timing wasn’t right and hearts were broken under the dim barlights 

you were and are always there to hear me out to tell me that things can still be said in good time and at the very least, share toast with me 

this ritual doesn’t make me feel any better or worse but it does reassure me that I have a good friend who cares and I won’t be hungover in the morning

His eyes are on me He's pretending to look past me but I know his eyes are on me Curious- for some reason I've gotten a second wind. Words are flyingontothepaperfasterthanmypencankeepup oh, must be writer he thinks. I think he thinks. I hope he thinks. He gets up and derails my train of thought, bringing my pen to a screechinghalt- Please don't talk to me. He distances. Wait! Stay! Talk to me! He's gone. So is the rush and so are the words.

"The Library of Congress is the largest library in the world, with more than 155.3 million items on approximately 838 miles of bookshelves. The collections include more than 35 million books and other print materials, 3.4 million recordings, 13.6 million photographs, 5.4 million maps, 6.5 million pieces of sheet music and 68 million manuscripts."