Probability is I might have forgotten how it feels to pine over a good feeling. That wanting sensation for a certain fondness — proximity towards someone who gives warm thoughts and general lightness. Might being the operative word, then it’s also possible that I haven’t completely. Somewhere in the corner of the room, splinters of fondness remain traipsing gently on the floor, faint, like soft footsteps of beloved ghosts.
Side note: Someone sent me a message last night. He said, “Free yourself from unnecessary guilt.” He made sense; I slept for 9 hours.