Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Ninety-Three
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The bite of the chill. 
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The floorboard heater is burning the tops of my toes. 
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Always just a few more things I need to do that can’t get done. 
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I can’t help myself and get two OG donuts. 
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I tell her that I’ve already made peace with the fact that I have to leave. That I’m not even cleaning, just thinking about what needs to go in the trash so I can prepare to pack. 
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I tell her that there were moments I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. But I’m still glad we did it. 
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I just need space to visualize what could be next. 
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We figured it out. We figured it out. I send him an email with a lot of exclamation marks. 
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Perception. 
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Very tired.