The cave is cold, but my pages are warm. You rub my spine, but you’re thinking of him. If he is so important, why do you run to me with your feelings? You write it all down in me, letting your pen glide along my paper skin, marking me with your essence. Every thought, every urge, every desire is etched inside. So why do you only write of him? Why leave me behind, alone and scarred with your words?
You ran from everyone else to be with him. You told me no one else would understand. Don’t you see the irony? You told me, the one person who would always understand, that no one cares for you! I’m yours, and I’ve always loved you. My entire self is with you. Overflowing. Don’t close my cover before signing you love me. I deserve at least that.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Award-winning board game player, enthusiastic collector of retro video games, and well-known sweater-wearer, Condie has also written one or two short stories.