It Hurts

Why am I so infuriated? Why am I so upset? Is it your indifference? Is it your impatience?

Why is it that I always feel that you don't care enough? That you treat others better than how you treat me. That no matter what, I always feel secondary. I always wonder about how different the situation would be had you remained in spore...about how some others will always take precedence over me...about how others will always have priority of your time.

For some reason, I can sense your holding back. Perhaps it's reasons I alredy know about. Or more unknown, unexplained ones. And I hold back too. I don't dare to give, because I'm afraid of the hurt. But you know what? It already hurts.

Is it my own insecurity? Perhaps. I do not know. What I do know is the hurt. And exhaustion will eventually follow. Because everything is in limbo, it's tiring to wait in the unknown, for the unknown. You know how it's like; you were there once. At times, I wonder your way of doing things, your way of rationalising the situation. That's fine, since you reckon you know yourself best and what it is that you want. But there are times when I wonder what I am doing...blindly.