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Haviland,

Hours into days, days into weeks I will still be thinking of you. I will childishly depend on those days and weeks and months to blanket that sharp sting I feel when I think of you-- but to no avail I'm sure. I got it bad and that ain't good. Why is this happening? Why do I dream of you? Am I forever doomed to ache and long for a woman who's center of attention lifestyle makes me sick? I've never felt a simultaneous attraction or repulsion before, it's making me miserable. I wouldn't choose this if I had the choice.

This fever that quickens my pulse will break soon. My longing to kiss you, and breathe you, and taste the dizzying scent of your skin will soon fade. Eventually, another hurricane will roar up and introduce herself and spin me around and around and around. And when she and I are sitting at a restaurant and I am staring at a glass of champagne for what seems like an eternity and she asks me what I am thinking and I say nothing, hopefully that wont be a lie like it usually is. Hopefully I wont want to say: "Haviland's eyes I am thinking, Haviland's lips I am thinking, Haviland's hands I am thinking, Haviland's legs I am thinking: Haviland Savage I am thinking."

I love you.

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15y ago

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