I know I should write to you more often but you make me bloody mad. I know this whole long distance thing get on your nerves but you were supposed to love me forever, if you cannot recall. Love is not a bed of rosy petals and there has to be some sacrifices and patience, without ripping each other’s throats. Think of me, if you really love me. When I cry and wake up with a throbbing pain in my head, you know I have no one to ruffle my hair.
Think about it next time you hurt me.