Let Me Know You're Okay

I know you wouldn't believe me if I told you I missed you. You'd probably tell me you weren't worth missing. But you are. And I do.

The weeks ago we were talking about you having too much baggage for anyone to be interested in you. I tried to convince you that everyone has baggage, everyone has scars. You told me not all scars heal and not letting people into your life has been working for you so far, though you later confessed you didn't think it'd always work.

Then I told you something I've wanted to tell you for awhile. There are people who want to be close to you when you're ready to let them in. You replied that it might be awhile but I said they know that and are willing to wait. You asked me what I meant by "they," even though you knew I meant me.  I know you don't let people become close to you and I understand why. But I promise I'll be here when you're ready to let me in. I'm not going anywhere.

Last night I told you that you've seemed distant lately. I asked if there was a particular reason for it. You told me you had a lot on your mind and you have been laying low and ignoring everybody. That's fair enough, I suppose. It just worries me. I know you've told me several times not to, but I really can't help it. The less I hear from you the more I worry. That old idiom about how "no news is good news" is full of shit. No news scares the hell out of me. I know I can't force you to talk, and texting is a pretty lousy form of communication to begin with, but I hope someday soon you'll send me a message. It doesn't have to be long or complicated. Hell, it can just be, "I'm doing alright" like that one Format song. If you'd send me something, I'll trust you and believe you when you say you're okay.

Love you.
Mean it.