I’m sorry dear, I’ve been selfish: it’s hard to see clearly when I’m stuck in a fog of my own sadness.

I don’t often get to hold something so delicate and beautiful, I need to be more gentle with you.

And I think I know what I want:

Expansion of my mind; experience; understanding and knowledge; the ability to see the world as it truly is, but to still relish in its beautiful things.

I know that you love to fill your head and heart with other people. I know you don’t miss me as much as I miss you. I’ll just wait quietly in the corner until it’s my turn for attention again.

Is this completely narcissistic?

I get sad on Sunday mornings, lying next to you underneath big windows as you’re glowing in sunshine, eyelashes shimmering, lips outlined by blue sky and I become entangled in the breath that falls from you