Time.

It’s been ticking by like the annoying drippy faucet, unrelenting. It’s been tapping at me like that annoying child.

Every day has been feeling like a day I wasted because I hadn’t found a way to wake up with Her by my side, hadn’t found away to make sure She was there when I fell asleep. Oh, I have been making use of my time. From flirtatious rendezvous to an exciting project. I’ve enjoyed it … I’ve just, in all of those endeavors, there comes a moment where I think, “I wish She was here.” Wouldn’t this all be better if I had Her to share this with, or even to just tell her about after a long day? Or even if I just could take Her body and release my lust because today was great or today was terrible.

I think of the campers on the beach I went by this summer, there revelry loudly spilling onto the highway that snaked by and — that would have been fun for us.

And especially this morning where I get a break from the normal wear and tear, the normal responsibilities and could have relaxed and, frankly, really tore it up with her.

That’s not romantic but it’d be a lie to claim I want only Her mind, Her words. I want the whole damn package. She’s the whole damn package and I would me to have that!

And it’s time to lay it out.

I’ve been writing to Her in this notebook for months now and my friends, while knowing none of the contents know of the effort. One of them pointed out that it will soon be one-year since we met. It’s time to give it to her.

Thursday — will be the anniversary of when we met, though technically 366 days because of that pesky leap-day — though I first saw her on August 31 (and realized she was brilliant), I didn’t actually get to see her up close and do introductions until September 1st. So, depending on how you count your years and first meetings… But the date seems easiest, so why fight tradition (who the hell wants their anniversary date to lose a day every four years-ish?).

I’m going to be finishing up.

That was a good day last year. That first day I saw her and that first day we actually spoke and I took a little risk on her and she took a risk on me and then we upped the ante, taking big risks on each other…. and then again, and again, and again for the next few weeks.

What a lucky piece-of-shit I am. I got to steal so much of her time for those few months. I’ve got work to do, the clock in the hallway is chattering at me with it’s ticking, a reminder.