Not ever celebrating Valentines with me because it was a made-up holiday, was not love.
Never asking for a day out of work on my birthday to celebrate with me, was not love.
Spending NYE with his friends and leaving me home alone, was not love.
She had been gifted with the gift of the spoken and written word.
Her mind could create parallel universes that one could barely even dream of. She had the way of bringing back to life those ideas.
But she felt misunderstood.
In a world of make believe, her brutal sense of truth…
… to this day, since I last saw you.
Even though you promise me that we’re going to see one another as soon as restrictions losen a little bit, I can’t help but to get saddened by the fact of not having you next to me.
We are fortunate to live in a world where we can FaceTime one another. But it’s been 31 days since I last saw you.
31 days of just reading you. Just text.
I get that not everyone is extroverted. But…
Don’t you miss seeing me? Don’t you want to spend some time with me, even though we’re appart?
Or have you grown indifferent?
Three days of silence.
One minute we were talking about sugary snacks and the next all communication got cut.
I would completely understand if you’d tell me that you need some time for yourself, away from social media, a bit of peace and quiet.
But you haven’t said a thing. Just a very cryptic message in the last 72 hours.
And while this silence mean nothing, I cannot help but wonder:
Is this how it ends?
My heart is crying.