Doug(las)

I can't help but miss you all the time. Almost two years and I still look at that little black hat and smile, you still call me Haleyjane when everyone else let it die out. You're roughly 456 miles away yet I can't understand why I'm still in this state. I know as soon as I put my pen down someone is picking up theirs. The letters I've written you are for you and no one else.

But lately I'm at an apathetic loss of words; my paragraphs turn into cages, each sentence a bar, each word another lock.

I want to tell you anything and everything, I just have to escape myself first.