passenger seat by leah.hansen on Flickr.
Title & Registration by montanalovesyou on Flickr.
How can you do this to me? The last time we saw each other, everything was perfectly fine. After I dropped you off that night, I haven’t heard anything from you. A couple of texts here and there randomly one night, but every other night you didn’t and still don’t exist. I wish you weren’t so bottled up all of the time. If I did something wrong, tell me. If you’re suddenly feeling differently, tell me. Don’t ignore me. What use is that going to do? It actually hurts more, believe it or not. I go to bed alone every night and try to figure out what I did wrong, and I dream wonderful dreams about you only to wake up alone and have reality crash back in to remind me that there’s something wrong with us. But what? I wish I knew. But at the same time, I wish I didn’t. I don’t try to engage in any type of communication either, only because I’m afraid of what you’ll say and I’m afraid of what will happen. I’m at a loss. I’m a coward. I suppose I’ll torture myself and wait until you finally decide to talk to me. Until then, I’ll continue reevaluating myself and dreading the empty bed in the morning and the kissless goodnights.
