You know its not a good thing when I start writing so much. Because it means I'm thinking. Okay, not just thinking but over thinking and over analyzing and going crazy over all the little details that might or might not matter. But I'll let the pictures do the talking. Because my words feel so insufficient. Why is this love so damn difficult?

But...

I know I said I won't wait anymore. That was a load of bull obviously. 

I feel used. I feel like I'm being taken for granted, being taken advantage of.

Would you ever pick up the phone on your own accord and call me? And talk to me the way you talk to other girls, like they are fascinating and amusing, with that smile in your voice?

Am I wrong for thinking that we could be something for real?

***

No. 5 hits me especially hard, but then, I guess, so does every other number.

I wonder when you will remember about the box.