Why haven’t I updated or responded to your e-mail?

Well, I’ve blown it. Too often. My nose is being such a drip and wants to run off with another girl. I’ve smothered it so much that he’s feeling a bit chapped in the hide.

“You’re only running to spite me,” I said, simply unable to imagine my dear sweet nose absent from my familiar face. “You know you love it when I blow you.”

He grew an angry red. “No, I don’t. You’ve lost that soft and gentle touch. You irritate my skin. I’m leaving you.”

I cried, with my throat sore and my eyes watery. My shoulders heaved with racking sobs hacking coughs, but he was unrelenting and stuffy. Then I tried once more, for old time’s sake, to caress him and blow him one last time.

He wouldn’t produce for me, wouldn’t budge. That stubborn stuffed shirt!

“Fine!” I cried. “Leave me, then!” My congestion broke up and settled into my chest with a heavy and rattling breath. Oh, to be so lovesick. I spent my evenings curled up in bed, sleeping away the depression and sickness.

It’s partly why you haven’t seen any updates from me and partly why I haven’t answered many of my e-mail. I only came on tonight to let you know that I’m doing my best to recuperate. My nose and I have agreed to go to therapy, and hopefully we’ll be fine again and up to our old antics, with him turning up whenever I despise something or him crinkling up with such cuteness whenever I’m grossed out. While he barely tolerated me picking at him, he used to love it when I thumbed him at people.

We’re taking this time to kiss and make up, only he won’t let me kiss him yet. Come to think of it, I’ve never been able to, but that’s beside the point. He’s stopped running, and that’s all that really matters to me.

So anyway… now you nose.

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