I’ve written you a shoebox full of letters over the past four years. I’ve had the guts to give you a few in person, and even got something back.
I can’t keep doing it, but I’m addicted to the simple act of taking the time to write what I’m feeling on paper in hopes that you’ll someday read it.
I’ve never asked for you to say something in return before, but when you did the last time, it changed everything for me.
I always say I want something back, and when a friend came through for me, I was selfish and I wanted more and hurt myself immensely because of it.
I never thought I’d be where I am because of you. I never knew I could get this far gone.
I find myself counting down the days to an unknown date, telling myself “only a few more months” just to make the time go by, composing letter after letter in my head whenever I don’t have the time to write it down.
When things are slow at work, I find myself looking up at the door, imagining you walking through the doorway, excited to see me.
I know I shouldn’t do this to myself.
I just miss you.
(Source: vanillaco, via allbeautifuldarling)
