I don’t want to care about you. Or anyone. Or anything. I want to protect my heart by keeping it vacuum sealed, safe from teardrops and emotional bullets.
I keep fooling myself into thinking I’m fine on my own. I can last weeks without falling into daydreams about what we could have been and what we could still become — but then you will text me and all of my independent woman who prefers the single life bullshit will drift out the window.
The second I see your name appear on my scroll of notifications, every thought drops from my head. You become the only thing on my mind, the only thing I care about, the only thing I want to talk about.
It excites me to know you were thinking about me, that you decided to talk to me when you could have cured your boredom with any other girl, when you could have gone another day, another week, another lifetime without hearing from me again.
One text from you gets my mind locked on you. I will go straight from feeling fine to feeling like I need to have you, like my existence is not complete without you. You flick a switch inside my chest. You are the biggest distraction. When I’m waiting for another one of your messages to ping through, I am unable to concentrate on anything else. You zap my common sense. You destroy my logic. You temporarily turn me from a skeptic into a die-hard romantic. You turn my opinions inside out.
I hate how much of a rush your texts give me. I hate how much I care about whether you are going to answer my latest message or leave me waiting for another few weeks. I hate how much happiness your presence brings me and how much disappointment your absence brings.
I don’t want to get this excited every time you talk to me, because I know our conversations are never going to last long enough to satisfy me. I know you are always going to fade into the background right as I am starting to get used to you, right as I am beginning to imagine all of the things we could create together.
I get way too excited over your texts. I like you much more than I am comfortable admitting. I enjoy spending time with you, even if that time exists over two screens separated by miles. I could talk to you about nothing. I could talk to you about everything. I could talk to you forever.
But at the same time, there is a part of me that wishes you would leave me alone, that you would abandon me and leave me in isolation. I don’t want anyone to have this kind of hold over me. I don’t want to feel this powerless. I don’t want to care this much about someone. I don’t want to get this excited when I see a stupid text.