The memory of our first encounter is stuck looping in my mind. You were tipsily entertaining me. But when I casually grazed your arm, I felt something. I don't know how else to describe it: electrical/chemical/inevitable. I knew we had to be together. Years later it ended coldly and abruptly with a rearing of our pride(s). In a logistical move one afternoon our little family was erased. Sometimes (all-the-times) I close my eyes viciously tight in an attempt to will time travel into existence. In this version, I stay. We figure all the extra shit out, love each other entirely, and go on together. In real life it's been a year since our breakup, and I still care for no one else. Yet, I can't bring myself to talk to you directly about this. Since I'm airing it all here, it is also worth saying that we aren't 'just friends', we're best friends. And we should be together. And I'm still insanely/illogically/defiantly in love with you. And I always will be. — Next Week I'll Try Smoke Signals