Fifty-four
Peggy, Three for this one. Yes. Yes, it has been a long time. Just very busy. I've been sooooo, busy. Sorry. Still not feeling well, easy to get angry and sarcastic. Well, I don't remember her name, but her face really has stuck with me. Another one. I only remember a few nights with her being around, so remembering her face is very extraordinary. Old age thing, I guess. I don't want to think that way. There just so much. After a particularly large pile lands on us, it just becomes, fine, bring it. Yeah, it's not, no, was not me. We continue. She has healed. Back to her work, so our mornings are out, but usually say goodnight to each other over the phone. Her touch carries me past the piles of shit. I show her the guy in the mirror and hate myself for doing it because of the insecurities of it, then cry after she touches me, or hangs up, or drives or walks away after.