I should write to you more rather than poetry.
What do you think?
It matters, of course it matters.
You are the whole reason I write. If I did not write, I would already be stuck in some unknown lunatic asylum saying your name. In the first few months, I thought I would, honest to God. Tears came out as I breathe. With every heartbeat I cried. I cried. I cried.
It was pure torture. Just like walking on sizzling hot coal, burning my feet. Have you ever felt like that?
I had to find a distraction. It is either drugs, alcohol or some other form of addiction. I chose something which would not harm myself or you. In short “US”. My fanfiction and reading it to you, wondering whether you liked it, those are my simple pleasures now. Do you know I cried from work to home yesterday? Did you ask how my day was? Did you ask how I was feeling? Why do you always think I am not the person I used to be. You, out of all people. I thought you knew me. Obviously. I want to come home. I am wasting my time, being alone, not thinking of any other but you. Did you at least respect that?
May be you are a narcissist and I did not see that all these years.