At midnight, I am ready to go to bed; but then, my phone lights up with your text. Never mind, sleep can wait.
Your text is innocent as ever, just like how you are in person—innocent, genuine, and straightforward. I chuckle, because you have made a funny grammatical error, but then again English is not your primary language, so I have always found your grammatical errors quite adorable. And what’s with the usage of random abbreviations? I’m very sure they’re inappropriately used, but then again, all these little errors in your texting only add a genuine innocence to your character, making you even more precious.
You are not good at texting. Sometimes, you take 2 hours to reply, and others, you take days, or not at all. In person, I thought I could read you; but online, I think I do not understand you at all. What’s on your mind? What do you mean? And above all, how are you?
Your texting is hot, and then suddenly it is cold. I think I cannot keep up with the change, so I distance myself away from you—slightly. But I know you mean no harm, you are too nice to mean any harm, so I keep my distance—but am always within reach. Just in case.
I like to think that you are a special gift planted in my life, though I do not yet know what the purpose is. I approach with caution, but really, should I be less careful with you? What is this even? I try to exercise patience, but sometimes that is precisely the most difficult thing to do. I don’t want to mess anything up.
At midnight, we hold a somewhat nice conversation, though very brief and not much content was exchanged. But I felt your presence, and perhaps that is all that I needed.
Suddenly, your online status went offline in the middle of an unfinished conversation. And I smile to myself, because you truly are the best version of yourself like this—completely carefree, innocent, and genuine. And that is what I admire about you.
; 