You

I keep picturing you in front of me, starring into my eyes waiting for me to tell you how exactly I'm feeling. Nervous? Tense? Breathless maybe? I don't know, because you aren't really in front of my face. I've to say I miss you. But part of me keeps denying it saying that I just want you to be next to me, and that's not the same as missing you. And perhaps all I want is companionship. Does it sound familiar? Yes, because you just told me that's all you want from me. Companionship. Guess what, I'm greedy and selfish and I love myself more than anyone else. I don't want companionship from you. I don't need that from you if I can have it with someone else. I want you to be next to me so I can tell you how much I needed this moment to come true,

how desperate I am to let you know I'm not in love with you but I can't shake you out of my mind, how curious I am to see if we really hold hands and act like a normal couple could lead us to somewhere called a-serious-relationship-sort-of-thing. But you are not here. You never were because we wanted different things from the very first moment we met. I hate you. I hate you for being yourself. And the funny thing is I hate myself for not telling lies without blinking too much my eyes...