I hate staring at my phone screen, waiting for your name to appear under my notifications. I hate jumping every time I hear the beep, hoping that it is you, only to end up disappointed. I hate being unable to focus on the show I’m watching or the other people in the room with me, because the back of my mind is thinking about how you still haven’t texted me back.
I hate guessing the reason why you haven’t been responding. Are you busy with work? Have you fallen asleep? Are you texting other girls and having conversations more interesting than ours? Or are you in bed with another girl, kissing her the way I dream about kissing you?
I hate scrolling up to reread the earlier parts of our conversation, trying to figure out if I said something wrong, something that caused you to put an end to our conversation. I hate trying to determine your tone — whether it was flirtatious or whether you were being too polite to tell me to fuck off. Whether you wanted to talk to me or were only dealing with me.
I hate wondering if I should have said something different. If I should have sent a shorter text or longer one. If I should have said something funnier, smarter, better. Something that would have kept you invested in the conversation.
I hate how hard it is for me to hold back from texting you a second time. I hate rationalizing it by thinking maybe you didn’t get my last text, maybe you honestly forgot to answer, maybe you had nothing to say and didn’t want to look stupid by sending one word and are waiting for me to text again.
I hate that I care so much about a stupid text. I hate how getting a message from you can turn my mood around and how getting ignored by you can ruin my entire day. I hate how I let my happiness depend on whether or not you decide to pay attention to me.
Most of all, I hate that the anger I feel about how long it’s been taking you to answer me will fade away the second you actually answer. I hate that it only takes me two seconds to text you back, even if it took you two days to text me back.
I hate that I have some of your messages screenshotted and I hate how I can’t bring myself to erase the thread of our conversation. I hate how often I read through the cute things you said to me and smile. I hate how much I care about our conversations when you probably don’t even remember half of them.
I hate that I will sleep with the phone next to my pillow, just in case you text back. I hate that I will stay up later than is healthy for me, just so I can continue the conversation with you. I hate that I will sacrifice my energy for another minute with you.
I hate that I care more than you do. I hate that you mean more to me than I mean to you.