Let me tell you about the crazy shit I did.

I stayed up until 3 AM waiting on him.

Couldn’t wait to hear his voice.

Couldn’t wait to read his text.

And even though I received neither, his image was embedded in my head.

You could say I was in love, or lust - whatever you may call it.

Whatever it was, I just couldn’t get enough of it.

Everything seemed so good from the start.

Our conversations were perfect!

I thought that everything was working, but I guess that’s what I get for assuming.

I knew from the start that I was in above my head.

Instead of moving on, I found the courage to talk to him instead.

His smile lit up my world to the point of obsession.

Every thought was about him, and nothing else even mattered.

I was crazy. Crazy for him.

I was in love. In love with him.

And when I didn’t hear from him, it felt like I was underwater, struggling to swim.

I still think of him, even more than he might suppose.

I still keep hope that something will fester, even though I really know the book has been closed.

Although he may speak, talk is cheap.

They say actions speak louder than words.

With no action attached, there’s no use holding on to a love never secured.