Words.

Words. They tumble out of my head and into my fingers, forcing them to type these words into my computer. My brain snaps and I hit send. Silence. Astonishment. I sit in surprise to what my muscles just accomplished. I sent the message. The message I thought about so many times since I last got to use it. I sent those words. Spoke them in writing. "I miss you." Well, not completely, to be honest. What came out was more like "i... i mi... forget it." My brain snaps again and I want to log off before he can answer, but his fingers are faster. "hm". I stare at the orange letters in shock. I didn't want an answer. I sent my silent question in hopes of no answer. The answer is almost never the one I want, so I don't want one. If there would ever be a positive answer, I want it in a textmessage. To preserve the moment. To get back to the moment everytime I want to feel happy. Or cry.
I go to bed and I do said thing. I cry. "hm". I don't know what it means, but I know it's not "I miss you, too." It's nothing. It's a "hm".
If I only knew how he felt about me, maybe I'd feel better. Maybe, it'd be easier to hate you.
I miss you, but I can't tell you. I care about you, but I can't tell you. I want to be close to you, but I can't tell you. Tell me.