I want to reach out for you. But my fragile ego restrains me. I want to pick up the phone and call you but I fear that you won’t even see the call until much later. By then I’d have gotten over this need to talk and vent. And I’m afraid that I will sound like an idiot, hesitating and stammering.
I have so many questions for you. Why me? Why us? What about me? Where are we now? Where will we be six months from now? Do I get to see you the coming weekend? I am emotionally exhausted. And I haven’t even digested any of the answers you might have to offer me. It’s not like I’m running out of patience or taking the initiative. I’m just not sure where we are headed. And that confusion is clouding every sane inch of me.
I want to sit you down and tell you that I miss you. That your emails brighten up my day. That your smileys never cease to make me smile. You send me into a typing frenzy the moment I see a green dot next to your name. I want to tell you all this and more. But I need more time with you. And I don’t know how to begin telling you that. You will flinch, get defensive and move further away from me.
I want to reach out for you. But my fragile ego restrains me.