I am none the wiser

Oh Jan, I finally delivered you this book that was initiated by you, in WhatsApp messages. You replied and said yes you’ll read it, but you hadn’t given me your home address. I thouht of sending a paper copy to you, signed and sealed.

But you didn’t give me your address. And yet we started texting each other again. And the idea of you cut through me a thousand times.I felt dying little by little. And the whole world didn’t make sense anymore. I started thinking of you, I gasped when I saw that my messages entered your box, because that means you’re awake now, 7 hours later than my time zone. And I know I should concentrate now, but I just cannot.

I cannot stop thinking of you. And knowing that I am still in love with you makes me hate myself more. Reckless, and maybe clueless about my life, I devoured into an intense emotion. But do you feel the same way?

Please stop replying to my messages. I felt my body is collapsing and corrupting.

And people can see from my eyes that I am falling rapidly, narsascissticaly seeking approval. And when I don’t get it, I am chunked, I am stabbed. I am dying.

And I hate it that I think about you so often. I was coding today, at the meeting today, but people had to knock on my forehead to remind me that I was in a meeting. I was absent-minded.

I started to over-interpret people’s words. People at work, people at 7–11, and I forgot to smile.