I'm still missing Patrick, but the poem he wrote me helps soo much.

Except when I can't read where it's taped to my wall, I feel all of this pent-up affection that I want to give.

When Patrick was here, I could kiss him, hold his hand, sit on his lap, and now... Well I guess I'm going through withdrawl. I'm so used to touching him, following the grain of his hairs on his arms and chest, sleeping half on top of him.

I feel like I have all of this love inside me that's building up. It's meant for Patrick but it really wants to get out. Sometimes it comes out in tears, like right now.

Other times I find myself wanting touch, craving it from anyone at all. For three months, I had physical stimulation. I think it'll help me miss Patrick a little less if I have some other kind of touch.

This weekend I'm going to spend the night with a friend. Hopefully we can be some sort of physical with each other, I really need it.