Back, again
I’m back from the hospital, again. Last night was definitely better, but things have been worse.
I keep thinking about certain people, one in particular. I could write much more, I surely could, but I’m tired. Exhausted, really. I want to sleep for thousand years sometimes, but only sometimes. There are reasons to wake up, not always many, but enough. I wonder who’s thinking about me while I think about them.
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