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-Confucius had his Analects and I have my journal-
"I needed this," she said while curling up to him, contouring his backside.
Fast asleep, he hadn't much to say.
She peered over him, to see why he hadn't replied and sighed at the fact that he was scoring softly.
All she had now was his warm body, exhaling and inhaling by her, as if proof that he were still alive and her wandering thoughts.
I'm not getting this at home...No one listens to my problems. Their all petty but they bother me nonetheless...You listen. You respond. You tell me everything's wrong with me and that is the way I should be, but in a good way," she thought with a smile spreading across her face. "Everything's wrong with me and you're still here," she said while skimming his arm with her index finger.
His arm fidgeted and she decided she should attempt to sleep. She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep minutes later.





 
 
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