Dear love,
It gets worse at night so I immediately sleep it off, hence no dispatch for night 8. The worst thing about it all is that I know I did this to myself, and now I'm off all my favorite things - caffeine, soda and alcohol. Nice. It's like my body is reminding me not to spread myself too thinly; Cy says it's like the fact that I miss you has begun manifesting itself as a physical illness. I'm not used to being ill; maybe I'll go back to my parents over the weekend and get myself an appointment with an internist or something (having foregone that beach thing I was supposed to go to). Or maybe I just need to rest and eat properly home cooked meals.
That it is Friday today offers me no further relief, apart from the fact that it takes me one day closer to Tuesday and to you.
As fast as you can now, love.
xo, Me.
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