It’s the not-knowing that’s making me crazy. I have no idea what’s going on.
Are we done?
Are we “on a break” like the kids do? (although, what that would mean, considering neither of us is likely to scamper off and hook up with somebody . . . )
There are a hundred things I want to ask you, a hundred things I want to tell you, a hundred things I want your opinion on.
And that’s all outside of the, “How could you hurt me like that? And for what?” one-sided conversation that spins constantly inside my head.
There were at least three times at the Conference, when I asked, “Is there anything I can do? How can I help?”
And never once did you say, “Leave me alone, I need space, I need time away from you.”
So, I don’t understand why you’re mad at me.
I’m not mad at you.
God only knows why.
I’m just as impatient as always.
I’m going out of my mind, because I don’t know what I should be doing.
Should I be working on getting over you? Should I be collecting things to tell you, so that when we finally fix this, we can talk about everything again? Should I be working on my angry diatribe, so we can finally fight about this?
It sucks so much that I still love you.
Please, I just want to talk.