In Recluse

I know you're used to living like that.  I cannot blame you for your love of isolation.  I know how much it means to you to just lie there on your bed; locked up in your own world.  I know you hate being disturbed, and I know you hate it when people interrupt you in your reverie.

But don't push me away.

I'm tired of missing you and only you.  The problem with missing someone is that it can be one sided.  While you're wallowing in the pleasure of your seclusion, I am dying inside, every time I can't feel your presence.  If i'm not there, you're fine.  If you're not here, I hurt.

Am I obsessed?

No.  I don't think so.  I just need to feel you somehow.  Being in my heart is not enough.  It's never enough.  You can stay in my heart for all eternity, but how would I know if i'm still there in yours if you never let me feel you?

I suspect.

Every time you don't answer my messages, I feel as if you're doing it on purpose.  I feel like you are telling me to give you some space.  I am sorry.  I forgot how important isolation is to you.  I forgot your discomfort around a lot of people.  I forgot how introverted you are.

So here goes:

Even if it's torture...
Even if it's pain.
I'll force myself to love you from afar.
If it suits you,
Maybe i'll teach myself to suit it.

I'll pine for you.
Crave you.
Search for you.
In recluse.