Oh I loathe to post anymore negativity, honestly I do, but this particular situation is plaguing my thoughts to the point of mental illness (moreso than what I have already, believe it) and I could use a few pointers from the lovely folks who stomach my ramblings and curious sentence structure.

It's been not quite a month (it will be a month only a day from now) since I left Orlando and, ultimately, my beloved Hatter from our first and ill-planned visit. Since then I haven't been texting him as much, rather not at all, because all I can ever muster to think to send is an "I miss you" which, really, would get old after a few days. Why subject him to the fact I'm halfway to miserable? Anyhow, I think it was the weekend after I came home he texted me that I should text him more. I didn't really understand why as back when I painstakingly messaged him at least once per day I often wouldn't get any replies even if I was asking a question or trying to start a conversation. I think I texted him once and then went silent again.

Last week he again asked me to text him more often. I tried, texted him twice with only one of them being replied to (I think I was merely rambling just to have something to say) and, again, didn't send anything more. Each day passed and I felt a bit guilty about not saying anything, tried thinking of things to say but my well was tapped dry. I wanted to stay positive, but my personal life has turned really rotten again (my knee, school frustrations, my psychiatrist being an ass again, monetary issues, so on) so it's been a stretch just to keep myself positive.

Yesterday (since it's midnight here right now) I get a third plea. I asked him this time, what was the big deal? Was work that boring, was he upset over something? (he often asks to me 'talk to him' when he's depressed so he has something to focus on besides his own thoughts, so I thought maybe he was depressed and wasn't telling me) He tells me he misses me. Then it pretty much clicked and I felt sort of bittersweet for the realization. On one hand it made me feel good that he misses me as much as I do him and wanted more of the only form of contact we have right now and on the other it made me upset because I still have no idea how I'm going to manage messaging him more without just bitching like I usually do. I can't do the inane thing of sending quotes his way about love or distance or anything else because it's not my style and I like saying things he has the option to reply to and start a conversation.

I sort've just feel bad in general about this because while I wasn't aware of why he wanted me to text more, I feel like a bit of a bad girlfriend. I've been so caught up in my own "woe-is-me" attitude that I pretty much forgot he's in the same shipwrecked boat. It blows when you know what you're missing, but given he has to work an awful job 7 days a week with cruel supervisors and idiot tourists, I imagine it's like walking into your own personal purgatory collapsing into a bed with no one else in it who can make waking up the next day and repeating work all over again worth it. Yeesh and I thought I was miserable with just having too much free time. I can't afford another trip any time soon and if he makes good on his idea to come see me, it probably won't happen until next year. I'm not sure either of us can wait that long.

I wish I was as positive as I was last year, even during the summer when his work picked up and pretty much stunted our contact. I was happy to text him every day and be stupid or think up creative ways to tell him I loved him. Maybe if I dig deep enough I can find that part of me again. Can't let this all crumble, now can I?