TUMBLR TALKING IN ALL CAPS

WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO, MARTHA? HMMM?

ALL I DO IS FIGHT. I DO IT WHEN I WAKE UP AND TRUDGE THROUGH A BLEAK DAY, AND I DO IT WHEN I REST MY WEARY BONES IN THE BED WE SHARE AT NIGHT.

I’M NOT HAPPY. YOU CAN TAKE IT PERSONAL AND HATE ME FOR IT, BUT A RATIONAL, CALMER REACTION COULD BE PITY.

I KNOW I HAVE BEEN DISTANT. I KNOW I HAVEN’T LAUGHED LIKE I DID IN THE CITY, BUT I NEED… I DON’T KNOW, MAYBE TIME. MAYBE JUST WAITING OUT THIS FESTERING SORE OF UNCERTAINTY IS WHAT I NEED.

AS RIDICULOUS AS IT SOUNDS, I THINK I LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVER.

BUT THE SAD TRUTH?

I MAY NEVER GET PAST THE FACT THAT YOU WASHED MY BLANKY WITH THE COLORS.

IT’S RUINED, AND I NEED TIME TO BELIEVE I’M NOT RUINED EITHER.