Ego

Why do I always have to come back to you? I feel like I can't stay put. Like I'm trapped within the limits of my own skin, like I want to run as fast as I can, until I collapse from exhaustion. You've made your way insidiously into my mind and it kills me to have you as an ulterior motive or motivation for everything that I do. My heart flutters at every car that passes by, at every passenger getting on the metro, hoping against hope that it's you, that I'll get a glimpse of your face. That maybe, just maybe, for the smallest instant I'll get the chance to wrap my arms around you and get lost in your scent. That maybe you'll smile for me again. But it's all in vain. And every second drips by at the speed of water evaporating in the middle of a snow storm. Time stands still, and even though it hasn't even been a week, it feels like a century has passed. I miss you. I need you. I'm pathetic. That's what my ego tells me every morning when, strangely enough, the thought of you is what gets me out of bed at 7 AM. My ego tells me that I can't crack. That, no matter how much I want it, I can't beg you to see me like I begged you to tell me you loved me. My ego tells me that I've cracked too often. That I need you to make the first step in order for me to know that you actually care. Do you?