Am sick of finding the right words; I want to say it with my eyes and engrave it on the canvas of your mind. Shouldn’t have to tell you how much you are needed. You know it, because I have told you before. But that’s how far it goes. There is no way to top that gesture if you are missing. If I could, I would brand it on your skin with my touch.
Let’s not share anything or go over every excruciating detail of the day. Why waste time? What good is it to know how your day went if I can’t hold you until I know exactly how you feel about it? How does it help if you can’t hold me back until you feel whole again?
And I don’t care if you are always “by my side”, or the fact that I can count on you. I need your body as much I have your mind. Lay down by my side. May be, stare in a different direction. Your smell and breath! I am done with intentions enclosed in asterisks and silly emoticons. Let me reach inside you through the lines on your face and read you like a book. Flared nostrils. The occasional glazed over eyes. I want to deal with character flaws, not network congestion.
These interactions should feel good; tiny little opportunities to touch you ever so slightly. But it’s as if each phone call, each text, each smiley, clears the dust on my window pane, and reveals, just a little more, the amount of distance that separates us; the never ending wasteland of promises and desires that lies between the small log cabin my life resides in and the nearest village I am welcome to.
Update [13th of May, 2014]:
Found this wonderful video that speaks of the ills of social networking and is in a peculiar sync with what’s written above: