My room is messy. I’ve got a sink full of dishes. My studio is upside down. There 's clean laundry in the dryer. My bed is rumpled. My dogs unwalked.
I am having trouble mustering up the desire to take care of this real life stuff. I am craving vacation instead.
I want my lungs full of alpine air and honeysuckle. I want sun baked pines and 13,000 feet. I want to sleep outside and walk around barefoot. I want campfire and tequila, songs sung loudly and a quick wish on a shooting star.
I want snow to melt, the layers to come off and the green to come on back. It’s only been 7 months since we were together - but enough already. I miss you. Badly.
I’ve decided I am going to leave the dishes, keep on walking past the dryer, bribe my dogs with a bone, ignore the messy room, head on over to jump a few times on the unmade bed and then walk headlong into my upside down studio to work a little more on this: