9:32 pm - Wednesday, Sept. 17, 2003
Song:
You see, he used to write long beautiful things about how he felt about me. And when I had a bad day, I would almost always come home to a new entry, a new little splurge of his life and the love that exists in it.
Now when I talk to him, when I tell him everything he makes me feel and all the little tugs I get at my heart missing him each and everyday, he seems to blow it off. Perhaps I shouldn�t call him so often at 7am, or I should just assume he�s loving it, but sometimes I need to say that last I love you before the day, and sometimes I need to here those little sighs. Those diary entries chronicling everything I said that stirred him just the slightest.
Instead I feel this vague emotional detachment from him. And it hurts. It hurts because every couple kissing on the TV screen, or holding hands in the hallway. It hurts because every time he might have had his arm around me, and every sweet word he would have said right then. It hurts because all those things make me want him so badly I can�t breathe.
So fine, let everyone think I�m boyfriend I�m obsessed. Really, I just need a boyfriend who�s obsessed with me.
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