I’ve been staring at this blank page for two days now.

Make that three.

I keep typing words and then deleting them before they even become sentences.  I don’t need punctuation.  The words don’t stack up long enough to require periods or question marks and definitely not exclamation points.

They just begin.

They never end.

What does that even mean?  It means I don’t know what to say.  I don’t know how many different ways I can keep saying the same thing.

Do you know I sit here at this table most days or nights and I write these things to you?  Did you know I used to sit at this little island in my kitchen on a brown wooden stool and write my emails to you?  After you went away, I couldn’t sit there any more.

Maybe I’ll never sit there again.

I don’t know.

You’re not coming back.  That much is obvious. 

And I’m not going away but I can’t keep writing here.

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