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you are online. in the moning. waiting to call me. i see a mesage from you, i see you online, i run away. i don’t want you to know that i know that you are there. i can’t talk to you. i can’t! it’s wrong.  and yet i die when i don’t hear from you. and i want you to want to talk to me. but i can’t do it. it’s complicated and crystal clear at the same time. i hate myself for it. and i promise, i promise we’ll talk when my mom isn’t here and when i don’t look like crap because i was up since 4 am. sorry, sorry, i’m so sorry, i’m so stupid. and you know you are a great friend for me and you know i love you and care about you. but yet it just doesn’t look right in my head. you are doing the wrong thing. but i would be feeling worse if you don’t do it. it’s ironic.