Driving myself mad.

OK...now I am officially driving myself mad!

How many times have I picked up the phone to text my love that I miss him in the last hour, only to put it down and try and shake the idea out of my head?

It has now been 6 days without speaking to him. Am I counting? I wasnt, until I started. The odd text here and there are ok, but they are hardly comforting. They say very little and are quite impersonal. I know he doesnt mean it. He has some kind of 'forgetful-man' syndrome. I tease him over it, but he has forgotten how much it means to me to get a good morning and a goodnight text from him every single day.

I know I should swallow my pride and text him about how much I miss him, but I almost feel weak in doing so. He is the one who went away, and so he should be the one to tell me. My irrational brain has well and truly taken over, and I am becoming more coco-nutty as we speak.

And so I get on with the mundane things here that have to be done. I cope with reoccuring dreams and countless thoughts. I carry on not because I can, but because I must.