It’s on me. I am the
one who put unrealistic expectations on you.
It was my thinking that with new technology you’d suddenly start writing
to me. It was all in my head that
somehow your new smart phone would move you closer to me.
I am the idiot, the numbskull. You will always be you, and of course, you
should never be anything else, but here’s the thing…
I am no longer going to write to you. I can’t.
It makes me too sad, first in never knowing if you’re even reading what
I’ve sent, and second – in knowing that you’ll never even think of picking up
the phone to write to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment