I will not hear from you. You will not write to me. I clean out the spam folder and learn that there are hormones to reduce belly fat, Latin singles who are dying to meet me, and a $1000, if I qualify. I wonder what I must do to qualify?
There's an algorithm that filters your messages into a separate folder so that I don't have to read them. But I check it anyway. Just as I check the spam folder. I know there won't be any messages there, other than the two old ones I saved. I don't know why I saved them. I asked you not to contact me anymore. I don't miss you, just your messages. Strange. I miss your words but not your presence. In fact, I crave your absence more than I crave your words. The fact of the folder bereft of new messages pleases me. Something inside of me breathes a sigh of relief.
No comments:
Post a Comment