343. I miss you with every atom of my being.

I've tried writing songs about you.

I mean I really tried, what else could I possibly be doing at 2am with my guitar in my room and sheets and sheets of paper?

I mean, I've thought about it, let my emotions battle it out with each other.

But we're all tired and weary, and we're all waiting for the same thing.

I'm just not in the right mood, the right conversation, the right time, to do so.

I hate myself.

Meow.