Sometimes I miss you so much I want to double in on myself, disappear, join you in the ether.
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Thanks to mental illness and the country of France.
1 comment:
I can't even fathom it.
I'm packing, which always makes me wistful and nostalgic, and while going through some things I came across a card from my grandmother for my graduation from college. (We were very close; she died of cancer in 2004.) Just remembering the way she wrote my name sent me over the edge.
I guess you could say it's one of my most cherished possessions--my name written on an envelope.
It's funny what we hold on to, isn't it?
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