1,812 miles apart

i can’t figure out what game we’re playing, or which one of us is writing the rules.  i don’t know why i act like i want to take care of this, like i want to talk and be honest.  that’s the last thing i’m ready for. 

i even put up a sign, literally, saying "slow down babe, let’s take it slow" expecting you would see through it without saying a thing, and when you did, my heart plummeted and i pretended it wasn’t about you.  instead, i play this game with you, tell you it’s a mystery.  who could i be talking about?  part of me screams, don’t you know how to play this game?  don’t you see that its youyouyou but that i’m scared?  that you’re not supposed to ask?  that part of the fun is wondering? 

that’s why i wonder, who’s game are we playing, and should we be playing it at all?  i can tell that you’re trying to get me to say it outright, that i think i’m falling in love with you.  almost entirely over the internet.maybe i can say that it’s like the old days of writing letters, falling slowly for someone in another country through their beautiful words.  with you, though, technology is key.  it speeds up everything and makes me feel insincere.  i’m too much of a pessimist to believe that you can see someone after ten years (during which we changed from children into young adults), connect over one afernoon and a cup of coffee, and declare you’re in love a year later.  i haven’t seen you since last july and i may not see you until next january.  how can you continue these indirect confrontations, these love poems and underhanded questions?  do you really believe it’s possible to do this? every time i start to hope, i get to scared and slam the door in your face.  i’m sorry.