I want to hear from you, i want to ask you questions like how is ******, or is **** doing good?
I want to tell you about stuff that happens here every once in a while, i want i hear you laugh and i want to hear you ask me about what im doing – though i dont want to interfere with you, and your life according to all that which isn’t me.
I hope to understand that perhaps you have changed and perhaps you feel the same deep, sad feeling of incompletion.
But somehow i don’t think you’ll feel like this – you will just go on, and i’ll wait and keep waiting, waiting for a reply, a PS , a oh hi.
Somtimes i could kill myself for allowing myself to become so emotionally involved – i don’t think i’ll so it again.
I’ll wait until the sad realisation chases me on to higher grounds.