House keeping

I couldn't sleep after you told me that. I refused to lie with you on my bed when I asked you to retire for the night. I heard your urgent Sorry when you pleaded me to go into my bedroom and have you be the one sleeping in the living room instead. I hated myself for a short instant before my ego took over. You were so boyish with your pleading it was terribly ugly for me to just lie there in front of you hesitating to this innocent demand that you were sorry. 

And so I finally stood up and laid on my bed. You joined me shortly but I pretended to be disinterested and asleep. 

I could feel your fingers cautiously resting on my back. I fought hard to not roll into your arms like the night before. They weren't desperate nor hormonal, they were extremely child like and gentle, lying on my back. And there I was, like a log, frozen, uncomfortable stubborn and tired. 

I left you alone on the bed and went to the living room when lying at the very edge of my bed was too much. 

I laid in the living room, blogging about how sad I was on everything and how tired I was of everything. Of you and your thousand dollar smile and your love for cats. 

You cleaned my living spaces from my bed to my room to the kitchen and the front. 

I ignored you the entire day when really I was biting myself to not open up. 

And only when I came home to find you gone that I starting to break down. 

My bed smells like you and I cried and cried and cried. I fell in love within a day and was too proud to admit it. I wailed and cried while kneeling by my bed. 

I missed you so much. 

But you have someone in KL and you love him. You are lonely and I happen to fit the bill. You are 19. I am just sad. 

How endearing your patience is.