Dear ________________ ,
Last night I had that dream again. The one where we were sitting next to the duck and the duck would waddle back and forth between us saying, I just don’t know how you do it.
I don’t either and still don’t.
I think it has to do with that one time we were sitting in the park, by the river, watching the water rush past us. The time you said you had to go after saying you couldn’t stay. There were ducks in the water then, but they swam right past us, not paying any attention to the other water forming in my eyes.
I’m writing this in the morning now, and went to check if you had sent a message in the middle of the night. You didn’t. Unless you send your messages to me in my dreams, while I’m sleeping and confused, and you make your point cryptic and stupid and sad. As if you ever had a point to begin with.
I pour myself a cup of coffee so that I’ll wake up and decide if I should send this to you, or just sleep with it tonight under my pillow.
I’ll print this out, fold it up, and keep it on my nightstand just in case I change my mind, one way or another.
