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Everyday seemed an eternity waiting for your message
I jump at every sound from the phone, every pop-up on the screen.

But you have a life now, and I feel so far away.

I wonder what you are doing at every moment.

Imagining who you're spending time with, and how happy you must be in their company.

Being so happy, that maybe you are starting to forget me.

I'm sure you'll do fine, maybe better, without me.

Imagination is cruel, especially so on the weekends.

It teases and taunts, suggesting the worst of what I fear.

I like you so much, that I dare not think of you now.

It hurts to miss you.

When I think of hugging you, I can't help but think that maybe, 

you're being hugged by someone else.

When I think of being with you, I can't help but think that maybe, 

you're with that someone else.

What should I think of then?

I'm not sure now.

Missing you, yet trying not to think of you.

What else can I hold on to if I don't hold on to this feeling for you?

I will fall apart if I let go, reverting back to my monotonous empty self, 
leading my meaningless daily life.

It hurts to hold on. 

It hurts not to.