ExT: I'm not as preoccupied with you as I once was. But I still think about you every day. And it's times like these when I wish I could reach out to you. You knew me so well, or at least I thought you did. Now I'm not so sure. NewT tells me that the good things I had with you were real. I'm not sure what to think these days.

I need some sleep. I'm restless these days, waking up tangled in my bed and sweating from whatever the nightmare du nuit is. I'm tired.

NewT also says I should think about writing you. But I'm not even sure what I'd say. All the words seem to have flown out of my head. And I'm so very tired.