don't know why i'm so upset that we can't go slacklining this week

But my brother still left the other, longer line back in Seattle, and I just am.

I'm resolved to meet the sun this week, outside, as much as possible, since it's been so gracious as to show its face at least every other day.

I've decided I only want to smell like three things, and I don't know why, but I do: oranges, raspberries, and the lingering raindrops that finally fall off of pine branches. Fresh.

Let's you and me make us some money, some dough. Let's hold hands and let our foreheads and noses touch before we kiss. Rest your head on my shoulder again; that was a nice moment. Let's get out of here. Let's run through some wheat fields where the crop is almost shoulder-high. Let's climb a mountain on a cloudy day. Tell me my smile is golden and I'll tell you that you're quite right, quite literally. Let's have firecracker-fast banter. Tell me what you see when you look at my face. Don't mind my body shape, it's just there to house me; and I definitely won't (and don't) mind yours. The back of my neck, the feel of eyelashes brushing against my cheek, my freckles standing out--I know who I want those things with, and it was never any of them, although maybe for a moment or a day or two with some of them, and it may only be that long with you, but it's now...it's now what I think about.

I have a cat, by the way, and I do love him. Sorry.

Tell me what you see when you look at me; give me an answer, whether directly or indirectly, and we can hopefully continue from there without a halt along the way. That's not all that I really want, but that's what I need to sort it all out.

I want to shout it, I want to run pell-mell all the way to you just to hear it, and hear my echoes. I don't mind taking my time to walk back home; gives me a chance to think.