And the days fade on, running into one another, as I wait to hear from you. Testing myself, forcing myself not to cling parasitically at your heels.
Waiting.
Waiting as the spaces between the words grow. Watching the transfer functions decay to zero.
Fumbling nervously with my shoelaces, and sifting through the ebbing flow of a thousand beautiful memories.
I will be here.
I will always be here, Waiting...


(This isn't supposed to be a poem by the way. Then again it's not really prose either.)