It's 4:25 now. I'd told you we'd meet at 4:30. I am evaluating a situation where I tell you about my idea of not coming along. It probably won't end well for me and you'll talk a lot and I'd not like that, so I'll just come with you. 
I wish I could just jump to a time when all this mess has begun to make sense. On an unrelated note, have you ever looked into my eyes? Also, would you, for once, decide to keep your arm on my shoulder and draw me close in an autorickshaw? I'd like that. For once, could you love me and just love me? Don't give up a love without ever really loving a lot. Also, never be cold to people. Indifference is for Siri. Ask me if I love you. Tell me how it feels like to have 'Yes' for an answer. I like it when you wear a shirt. I want to write about things that don't become you. Honestly, fuck you. I'm tired. You've confused me long enough. I wish we hadn't met. Don't come near me. I might just kiss you. I might just hit your chest with my fists as I lament the loss of my love for you. Men are strange. I wish someone would turn the volume down for everything. I want to go to sleep.

What to not write about at 2:27 A.M.

7 JAN 2017 AT 2:27