Dear Mr. Someday

I’m sitting in a coffee-shop, people watching, losing count of the number of happy couples passing by. Cheesy and pathetic, i know, but they made me think about when I would hold someone’s hand again, or look into someone’s eyes like it was all that mattered. They made me think of you, where you are, when you’re going to show up, and more importantly, if you exist at all.

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