Saturday morning, up at nine-ish. Chores done quick, had some juice, now staring into a blank white canvas. The sounds of keys on the laptop transcribes the slew of words jumbled in my mind. Less clear, more like a tornado spun around and flipped everything.

The sun is shining which helps the cat catch some rays and some z's, lucky little suncatcher. The lyrics of Seven Collar T-Shirt's Foreigner rings in my head while I occasionally sing along.

"The last time that I spoke to her 

She wouldn’t let her guard down, 

I’ll be yours if you stay mine"

Her, him... him. Him. The last time that I spoke to him? REALLY spoke to him was a good year ago. The only reason I reminisce was a Saturday morning trigger. What a way to start the day. Thinking back, it was fun while it lasted.