Growing impatience

3:04 pm my time, 4:04 am your time; I am hoping against hope that you will talk to me today.I've bombarded you with so many messages over the past three days that it embarasses me. That makes me so desperate. You were asleep, busy or simply did not want to reply. 3 days seem like a lifetime to me. Especially for someone with whom I spend half my day with, someone who is gaining on me each day. I am scared of you now. I've noticed that whenever we spend intimate time, you disappear the next day. That makes me regret it because I feel that you feel guilty for feeling me this closely and you choose to cover it by being busy or by maintaining a distance.Your absence saps whatever energy I have left in me. The moment the clock turns 4:00 am your time, I start waiting for my phone to ring. If and when it does, and if It's you it lights me up like morning sunshine.I feel this deep sense of ecstacy which lasts me until 4:00 am the next day.When I say I was bored or worried, I lie profusely. I miss you the most then with a deep sense of panic and manic depression. I lie because I want to hide the truth from both of us. I don't want to acknowledge it because there is a lot of pain involved, one that is mine to bear alone. I can wish for you but can't be with you. I want to hide it from you, because I don't want you feeling responsible for the feelings nurturing in me. Responsibility adds to one's burden. Sometimes we carry that burden with great strength and sometimes we cave in. You will cave in because I am not your life's reality. I am your madness hinged on baseless footing and sheer temptation. The moment it becomes a bane of your existence, you will drop me and disappear. Maybe not because you want to, but because you will have to. I am in such a demented dilemna. I can talk to you about anything but you. If I talk to you about you, I will scare you. So tell me, how do I keep you from knowing about you? We can only exist between the two of us. I can't tell you that I am falling for you.I am forced to commit my feelings to an empty piece of paper, absorbing all without judging the character or morality of my growing fondness for you. While it's true that I cannot dare to have any expectations of you, it still does not deter me from wishing for the impossible; YOU. A wish upon a shooting star. What lies beneathe you is very unbearable for me.