I hate the fact that someone can cause me to be emotional. Looking through your many social media feeds lurking to derive meaning from the ellipses that you sent me. You read my text at 6:31 and I’m still waiting for a response. In most cases I know that’s a curve and like a lone wolf I’ll stalk off looking for something different. Sadly I can’t do that with you, I walk away and I’m right back where I started. I find you on Instagram and I look through all your pictures, I remember every curve, dimple and nuance in your movements. My mind is an artist registering my emotions with paint and canvas, committing to memory the way you breath when your asleep. I want to scream at you because you’re the most impatient person I know, angered when I spend 5 mins without responding to you. Still you inflict this inhumane silence upon me, making sure that I know you are there awake and dropping messages at 120 characters a piece. I can’t stop myself from feeling these things for you, if I could you would have receive a bloody envelope with my heart enclosed. I’d want you to have it because you’re the reason that it beats the hardest and hurts the most now a days. I’m confused at my own ability to feel for you as much as I do. It’s such a strange feeling to want and yearn and be positive that you are not feeling me at all. It infuriates me that I care….WHY WHY WHY!!!!! I want to pull my heart out and stomp on it.