And so I texted him.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Every single day, every single night. The same message over and over and over again.
He doesn't want to talk to me. I know he doesn't. He doesn't want anything to do with me.
Or well, anything to do at all.
Yet I repeat the cycle.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
Good morning, love you.
Good night, love you.
I hope and hope and hope and hope and fucking hope he responds.
I know he never will.
Years ago, I knew for sure he would.
Maybe one day, I could get myself to carry the flowers I bought that day and bring them to you.
But until then, I await your response




A response that will never come.