A year ago today, I was spent the day in bed, in another man's arms, somewhere in Iowa. Supposedly in love, planning a future, children and big houses...
I couldn't write about it then and even now it seems hard to think about to write about.
It seemed so important two days ago to write something, but then he probably isn't even thinking about it. He's probably forgotten all those minutes spent in each others arms. So, why can't I?
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Eric has started to open up more. He's darkness has started to show through a bit more. He has admitted to loving me, over an email. I wish he has waited and said those words to me.
