You do have to work around them. I felt undeserving, but it only made me enjoy it more. There is something about the way she focuses her eyes on me that makes me feel like I can cross boundaries. 

Today is the 3rd day I have woken up, shut my curtains (blanket that seals my windows), crawled over and dug around my bottom drawer and looked for something sleep-inducing, only to be disappointed that I will not be able to sleep a few more hours. The thermometer in my room reads 91 degrees. I do not want to be awake, or hear the birds chirp, or listen to the rattling barking of the dogs next door. 

I feel unusually sensitive to everything; every sound and taste and smell or every word that comes out of every mouth, every day. The more I think, the more head aches hurt, and more head aches means more sleep and I cannot sleep with these birds and barking. 

Thinking of you is an invigorating remedy.

It chills me. That disgusted face you make after I do something that you pretend I don’t do, so that in your mind, I’m the guy you’ve always wanted. You like to pretend that the eloquence I posses on paper is projected physically in me, but you hate looking into my eyes and expecting a beautifully crafted response, just to be repulsed. You try not to let out a sigh linked with thoughts that this is all an apparent blunder, that you think you cover up with a half-hearted smile you unintentionally mock me with.

But, is it all worth holding onto? Would you really miss me if I were not there? You would surely not miss listening to me ramble on about my ideas every night, or listening to me constantly remind you that my eccentric process of thought will benefit us financially, in the future. You’d not miss lying in my bed, wondering what it’d be like to be with someone that could take you to nice places, more often. I know you’d want to feel remorse, so you’d create memories to cling to. Maybe you’d tweak things that have happened to make my efforts seem more romantic. Like the time I tried to charmingly ask you to be my girlfriend, on the night we stayed up until three a.m to watch the stars and the moon. Maybe, you could relive the candle-lit-dinner, and the sincere smile of content that I wore on my face.

You see in me only qualities of someone that couldn’t satisfy you impractically. I probably lack the sincerity to make you feel tender and real. You covet a warmth that has only left you cold impressions in the bed you lie lonely in, thinking about all of this.