Chapter 6: Counting the Minutes to Tomorrow
Just one little thing about this chapter, it takes about four months for Max to get one of Logan�s letters. The whole post pulse mail system isn�t all that great. ;)
Aimee- well, you know how much you helped. A lot. :)
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It has been four months, three days, twelve hours, and thirty-nine minutes since I sent Max that final letter. I know that I�ve never exactly been the most optimistic person, especially after I got shot, and even more so about my relationship with Max, but I can�t seem to be even remotely optimistic at this point. It has now been four months, three days, twelve hours, and forty minutes since I sent Max that final letter, and she is still not here in my arms.
I look at the clock beside my computer for what must have been the millionth time today. Every time I see what time it is, I think of what Max might be doing right now. Maybe she�s in Seattle, walking to my apartment. Maybe she�s at the airport, waiting for her bags in the baggage claim. Maybe she�s on the plane, watching some old pre-pulse movie. Maybe she�s sitting somewhere, pissed, and feeling abandoned, because she hasn�t received any of my letters.
I force myself to look back at my computer screen, and try to purge that last thought out of my head. I try to focus on my latest Eyes Only case, but everything I read, turns my thoughts back to her. I instinctively turn my head towards the window as I hear the engine of a motorbike drive by. I berate myself for getting my hopes up. On second thought however, I jump up to look out the window. It could be her. Maybe she swung with someone�s ride to get here that much faster. Once again I berate myself for getting my hopes up as I see the tail light of the bike fade into the distance down the street.
I slowly walk back to the only thing I can even remotely call an oasis in my life, and allow my subconscious to take over as my fingers fly across the land they know so well. My fingers keep my computer running as my mind once again turns to the one I love. Every day I achingly wish I could visit her, but there isn�t a way that that�s possible. I send her letters to the main post office, where they are hopefully delivered to her, wherever she chose to live. I could have traveled to find her, but the months it would have taken to find her could have, and ultimately were, better spent trying to get her here.
I look up to see that the message to my latest contact has been finished. I guess Max has rubbed off on me more than I thought. I�m beginning to be able to parallel process and multitask like there�s no tomorrow as well. Ah yes. Tomorrow. With tomorrow brings so much hope. Hope that tomorrow could be the day that Max finally is able to come home. Tomorrow seems like a good day, and I�m beginning to feel that tomorrow may be the best day of my life.
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