I really like talking to you. Even though we met under the strangest of circumstances, our frequently infrequent meetings have allowed us a glimpse into each other’s life. Over time, I suss out what kind of person you are, and you figure out what kind of person I am. And somewhere in-between, trust blossomed.
I feel safe with you. So much so that I tell you my deepest secrets, secrets which no one knows. And sometimes I wonder, have you become over-burdened, have you gotten sick of me. See, occasionally even I get sick of myself.
I think in some strange way, you make me want to be a better person. For many reasons. I don’t want to be a loser. I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want you to call me a chicken for copping out. Because, you made me see that life is life, and sometimes, it is just about plodding along.
You’ll let me know when you get sick of me, right? Or perhaps, I just won’t hear from you at all... ...Hello?