It's after lunch now. I'm back on the second floor of my hotel - the same hotel you're staying at - and I'm back at my writing. I'm waiting for you, and really I don't know why. I don't know what changed in me. Actually scratch that, I don't know what compelled me to do what I did in the first place. But I'm sorry, again.

If I could go back in time and do it all over again, I'd do it right this time, I promise. I would never let you go, not ever.

Thats when I see you, like really see you.

You're walking with the family your staying with, you told me who it was, I remember them but I don't actually know them. But I don't really care, I don't care what they think when I yank my headphones out of my ears and jump out of my chair as fast as I can. I don't care what they think when I run up to you and tap you on your shoulder, beaming like a little girl in a candy shop. I don't care what they think when you turn to look at me and your face lights up and the butterflies in my stomach turn to hurricanes and I almost want to cry because god, it's really you. And I especially don't care what they think when I throw my arms around you and bury my face into the crook of your neck where it fits perfectly, because in your arms is the only place I've ever felt at home. I don't care about anything except you as you hold me and I hold you, like you're my oxygen and as soon as I let go I won't be able to breathe. 

I missed you.