I have been good.

I have been good. I have listened to her orders and I have not tried to make contact. It is so hard. It is so difficult because I am constantly consciously telling myself not to reach out. I wish to whisper my words into the wind hoping they will reach her ear. Even if they did, would she care to reply? There are three ways for me to go about this.

Passive: I type out some long email about how I feel and how I’m going f*****g crazy about the amount of time I spend daydreaming about our wonderful past and our wonderful made-up future I've created in my head.

Passive-Aggressive: I swallow some whiskey to gain the courage and I drive up to her house after midnight with some handwritten-note explaining how I need her back in my life to function properly and I climb her roof and tape the note onto her window just to remind her that I know where she sleeps at night.

Aggressive: I show up at her work and time it so that she has to serve me and I order one scoop of, “I dream of you once a week,” and one scoop of, “I still love you,” in a cup but when she gives me the death-stare I proceed to order two scoops of mint-chocolate chip and I watch her forearms flex as she serves me my ice cream.

I don’t think any of these attempts will work. The email she can just ignore. She wouldn't even have to read it. She would immediately know it’s from me and delete it without opening it. Maybe she’ll read the note taped to her window. At least in that situation she’ll have to acknowledge its presence. But then what? It’ll be thrown away like a piece of trash. At least in the last attempted contact I get to see her face. After I pay for my ice cream, I could stick around, wait until she gets off. I've been creepy before, why stop now? But that will fall through. I can hear her now, “Get away from me.” “I don’t want to talk to you.” “Please leave me alone.”

And I’ll stand there and watch her walk away, maybe to her car or maybe to the bus-stop. It’ll be cold and a slight breeze will slide across my face and as she gets smaller and smaller I’ll have made no progress with my mission: to have her back in my life.