I thought of you yesterday.
I was driving home from work yesterday, and I went past a sports ground. There was a group of guys there, cricket training. I thought of you. And then I realised that you don't have cricket training on Wednesday, only on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
And then I talked to you last night.
At first, I was happy. It was cool, just chatting, about nothing, everything. For the first time all week, I felt relaxed. I smiled. I made you smile.
But then I realised I'm only making it hard on myself. I don't know that you care. Not the way I do, anyway. So you can make your own rules, and talk whenever you like, because it doesn't matter to you. It's nothing to you.
But it's something to me. And it means I'm always, always thinking, searching, trying to figure out what this means, or what you meant when you said that. When, in reality, it probably meant nothing to you. It was just ... Words.
So I'm stepping away, saying goodbye. Because I gotta. Before I drive myself nuts, and cause more tears.