There’s a kind of anticipation inside me, one I could not name. The kind that October brings you. Counting the days ‘till Christmas eve when I’ll be seeing my family again, counting ‘till it’s new year. Then I’ll never know, it’s my birthday once again. It’s a kind of a funny feeling when I long for the day to see you again, or see you, period. The kind that can’t wait ‘till the next time I see you smile, hold your hand, for real this time. The kind when I don’t give a fuck about her, about the both of you. It’s a kind of anticipation I don’t need to name. All I know it’s a four letter word and it’s coming.