He didn’t answer me, because he has other priorities. You’re too busy with new distractions. He didn’t answer me, because he chose to leave it for later, another time. He didn’t answer me, because he still couldn’t organize his ideas.

He didn’t answer me because he’s not interested or in the mood to type for a few seconds. He didn’t answer me, because he has nothing to say to me. You didn’t send me anything, because silence is the most painful response there is. And you are aware of it…

You know, I don’t blame you for not loving me or not returning my feelings. It is natural that people are not in the same phase, with similar intentions and dreams. It’s not that. I just find it regrettable that you never read the texts I wrote you. Not that it would make any difference in your life, but I told you a lot, in every line you squinted your eyes and didn’t pay attention to the words.

I thought, symmetrically, about the fit of each one of them. I imagined how you would interpret the message, I predicted hypotheses and I always worried about you. Wishing you well was just a detail of my incessant routine. I watched you in secret, and watched your steps. Before it even happened, I protected you. I would hold you and get a smile from you, just like that, without dedication.

I’ve always done a lot for you, and there’s no denying that. I’m not hitting you in the face, quite the opposite. Know that this is the last message I write to you, and perhaps the longest of all. If you didn’t bother to read even the shorter ones, I wouldn’t put my hand in the fire this time.

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But I really hope you get to the end of the last line. I will not beat around the bush or dramatize. No mincing words, my heart is responsible for all the paragraphs described here. Read with your soul, everything my heart has to say about you…

You. I could write this letter by hand, but you know my handwriting isn’t the best and I don’t want to have any insecurities about understanding every comma. How long waiting for you? idealizing you? How long waiting for you to fall in love with me? So much time thrown away, in the trash, disposable. For you, I lived the most ridiculous love clichés there is. I kicked myself, screamed, cried and suffered, unconditionally.

I took countless dumps, cakes, or whatever you want to call your absence. I felt jealous of what was never mine, or at some point was, but now perhaps has ceased to be. Facing the chaos head-on to get the least amount of your attention. I humbled myself for you. Only now can I see. I hurt the right people, because of the wrong one. I dove into his embrace as if he were a safe haven. of what? You never even closed your arms to fit me into your body. It’s like being sure that you never deserve all this I’m writing, but continuing to fill this blank paper, with the intention of venting and getting out of me.

One way or another, feeling free to this feeling, to you. I got nothing in return, no currency. That’s how, I learned that most people of this generation are needy and play, with each other, not to show interest.

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I really can’t agree… What’s the problem with visualizing right away and responding when you can? Making a call just to make sure everything’s okay? To stay online while typing? There’s no problem with that. On the contrary, it’s nice when they respond right away. When the conversation flows, naturally. When there are no charges or obligations.

Paying attention is not synonymous with despair. It’s no use wanting a lot, but showing little. It’s all about balance, reciprocity.

It is indifference that slowly kills love…

You died on me.