You came home in the wee hours this morning. Seeing your bedroom light peaking under the door surprised me. Not just because you were there, but because I couldn't figure out how you got in.
When I confonted you, with my angry mom voice, you explained that you woke your little sister up.
The best part of that conversation, for me anyway, was that I asked you where the hell you'd been. I wasn't supposed to ask. I didn't care. It felt good to act like a mom and Not your roommate.
This entire situation makes my stomach churn.
I hope and pray we survive this. I hope one day we will laugh and laugh.
If you only knew how much and how desperately I care about you.
Good night. I hope I see you in the morning.