thrill-seeker, cake eater

It takes me forever to fall asleep these days. I keep telling myself I can't revolve my entire life around one hour in a day. I tell myself I can't be selfish, I tell myself I should. I wait around all day for his name on my screen and it's borderline ridiculous, but I don't ever stop. I don't ever stop picking up before it's even had the chance to ring once. 

It's selfish but I want, I need more. I need more than phone calls that can last between a minute to thirty. I inwardly flinch at the pitch he drops to when he tell me he loves me, or at the silence when he doesn't until I do. People are nearby, and maybe it makes him uncomfortable.

I make excuses for him.

I tell myself it's really hard being in his place. 

I want to tell him everything, the stories I keep behind my teeth that just about fall out if not for me clenching them so hard because I should listen to him talk about his day first. Most times, they never see the light of day. I want to hear his stories, I love the excitement in his voice as he tells them, but I want to tell mine too. I want to go to bed feeling reassured and loved, but I only feel empty. Empty because everyday I'm collecting experiences I can't share and they're shaping me into someone he may not know anymore. This love is far from dead but I need to feel it, not assume it's there because I shouldn't dare to doubt it. He tells me he loves me everyday, but I've never felt more alone.