Don’t think a moment on your falling off to sleep, Talik. 🧡 I want you rested. Want you well.
That void’s always nigh for stumbling against, get me? It’s nothing can’t be eased. It’s nothing doesn’t clear up with a night’s sleep, and what’s helped here’s reading your words and playing for myself a while.
I’ll keep that to me, what you said about calling. And I’ll keep it in my notice, if it comes to needing.
[ … ]
Hazard is I’m thinking I’ll always need you, Talik. But then I do know my limits, what I’ve got and can’t get sorted on my own.
…Can’t say there’s no appeal in it, the thought of your voice half caught sleeping.
That said, there’s ease alone in knowing you’re there. As was the case this night last. Knew you’d be with me come morning. Knew the words I sent wouldn’t keep unread or without answer. There’s nothing in me needs immediate response, not often, not typically at all. The fact of knowing you’re htere and will be there
Aye, that’s plenty on its own.
Still and all, here me acknowledging and here’s me writing into memory, if all pulls too sharp, I’ll call you, and not worry too overmuch about distressing your sleep.
That is, I’ll fret about it some, there’s no help for that. But I’ll know what you’d prefer, and I’ll know you’d not leave me when I need you, and when the night’s gone voiceless. When I need nearer sign it’s not myself against the night, or when knowledge alone’s not enough to fight what gnaws.
My Talik. I’ll be right enough, and I’m plenty all right now, apart from this fact of being compromised in ways no voice can ease, ey? Got your words to keep me through the day. Got the realness of yourself to catch around me, and think, eleven days now.
3
That void’s always nigh for stumbling against, get me? It’s nothing can’t be eased. It’s nothing doesn’t clear up with a night’s sleep, and what’s helped here’s reading your words and playing for myself a while.
I’ll keep that to me, what you said about calling. And I’ll keep it in my notice, if it comes to needing.
[ … ]
Hazard is I’m thinking I’ll always need you, Talik. But then I do know my limits, what I’ve got and can’t get sorted on my own.
…Can’t say there’s no appeal in it, the thought of your voice half caught sleeping.
That said, there’s ease alone in knowing you’re there. As was the case this night last. Knew you’d be with me come morning. Knew the words I sent wouldn’t keep unread or without answer. There’s nothing in me needs immediate response, not often, not typically at all. The fact of knowing you’re htere and will be there
Aye, that’s plenty on its own.
Still and all, here me acknowledging and here’s me writing into memory, if all pulls too sharp, I’ll call you, and not worry too overmuch about distressing your sleep.
That is, I’ll fret about it some, there’s no help for that. But I’ll know what you’d prefer, and I’ll know you’d not leave me when I need you, and when the night’s gone voiceless. When I need nearer sign it’s not myself against the night, or when knowledge alone’s not enough to fight what gnaws.
My Talik. I’ll be right enough, and I’m plenty all right now, apart from this fact of being compromised in ways no voice can ease, ey? Got your words to keep me through the day. Got the realness of yourself to catch around me, and think, eleven days now.
Only eleven days. 🧡🧡