When shall I see you again?

You never ask this question, and it hurts, everything now hurts. When we talk you mention people, places and things that I will never meet, go or share with you. We talk, but it’s all nonsense chatter and when I want to say the important things, my tongue is tied by fear. Yes, Im frightened, I am terrified, that one day you will say that we must not meet again. You said it before, it took me a lot of courage to gig deep, burry my dignity, put the remains of myself together, and ask you to be “friends”, maybe I repeated “just friends” or I whispered, “at least friends”.

A few months ago, I thought that this was the best solution, at least we meet, at least we talk, at least we are together for a while. Yet it turned out to be utter torture, I still gaze at your beautiful eyes, I get lost in your dark hair, my eyes follow the movements of your elegant fingers as you talk. I nod, I don’t answer, all my answers will provoke you, or will put an end to this fragile one-sided friendship. I’m not a friend, I’m a lover, I have a failed short-lived love story, and it hurts, it really hurts to oppress my feelings with such cruelty. Why should I betray myself, to get a pat every now and then for being a nice friend?

I am writing again, confessing and complaining. I took a break from exposing my vulnerability, from crying loudly and presenting my emotions to each and every one. But this break did not help me at all, I still feel uprooted, unbalanced and absent. Yes, it is that feeling of absence that hurts the most. I have always been happy with whom I am, or that what I thought. But now, I am checking everything in me, trying to understand what was wrong in me,…I know that it is not about wrong or right, but only lovers have this kind of confidence, friends don’t. Sadness is a luxury that I cant afford, our love, our short-lived love does not and will not have many supporters, may be will not have any supporters, not even you.

The paper in front of me seems sympathetic, eager to listen and even curious to know more of our story, my story, how I wish that it was that easy to talk to you. I cant remember when did we last meet. You are busy, may be too busy these days. I don’t dare to ask, I only ask general questions, just like any stranger. A close friend sent me a message a few days ago, he said that I can grieve for as long as I can, but I should never start hating myself. Easier said than done my friend! It is not hatred what I feel, it is a kind of a feeling that I have never experienced before, maybe I don’t know how to describe it. Talking could have helped, but how, who would listen, and till when? Till when can I carry my love and cry, who would listen? In fact, I don’t want anyone to listen but you. I want to tell you that I loved you, as they say, from the first sight. Do you think I planned to fall in love with you? No, I didn’t, love struck me and I was not aware of the consequences, but now, I am staring at my mobile, waiting for any message from you, anything that will tell me that I came across your mind even for a few seconds, may be you remembered me and smiled, may be you wondered what would I be doing now. “When shall I see you again?” This is the message that I really want to see.