To: Married

I went out tonight to a concert with a friend of mine. It was pretty last minute but the concert was great. This band Secret Machines from Canada was incredible. Kings of Leon was also there but they kind of sucked. I've decided their music is just not for me.

I'm not actually sure why I'm writing. I am not drunk. Let's just clear that up. Seriously, I'm not drunk at all. I just felt like talking and since no one is here but me, writing was the next best thing. I felt like talking to you. I probably shouldn't say that but it's true and I think you know it anyway.

I'm in such a Portishead kind of mood. Do you know who they are? Their song Glorybox is really speaking to me right now. It comes on quiet but the groove is delicious. Just the right speed. I've attached it though I'm not sure if it will come through correctly.

What the hell am I doing? What the hell am I thinking? I'm such an idiot. I wish I could be a brazen smart-ass to you right now and say something that would inspire some of the sparring we do but that's all kind of stripped bare right now. I can't even believe I'm showing you any of this. I'm debating whether or not I should even send this to you. It's so about me just rambling on like this.<>

Now it's 1:45. It's taken me 15 minutes to write this because I keep stopping and telling myself I'm being silly. I have to go to bed. I wish you were there.