Its funny when I try and sleep these nights. I"ll lay here in the most comfortable bed I have owned, under nice blankets in a pitch black room the only light being the slow fade in and out of an orange dot of my blinking laptop. While Im struggling to find that place between reality and dream land I have to force myself to forget things about her. Its hard to forget something seared into your own memory by intense emotions or because you hold them with intense emotion. But I have to do it because I miss the girl, and the cigarettes, the ones that taste like Christmas but even so you hated the smell of them on your clothes afterwards, so you would always have to take a shower afterwards. Its hard because life moves by so quickly but time with you remained its own time, not tied to the rest of the worlds flow of time. Timeless in a way that hours could slip by and you couldn't tell if it was a few minutes or a whole day or just the entire afternoon. and now I can;t get the last afternoon we spent together out of my head.
So yeah I miss the girl and the cigarettes and despite trying to forget I think about you and things start coming back, I miss the Girl and the Cigarettes
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