Missives.

Cause I just don't know what else to write about anymore.

You're reticent, unresponsive now; not a change, but an innate trait become much more pronounced. You with your scientific formulas and planetary systems, your broken metal parts and computer programs, you're so impersonal. Every exigency you face so optimistically can be fixed if you just employ that very fallible logic of yours.

Wrong.

We are polar opposites, my every word laced with irony or occasionally, honest emotion disguised as equivocal tripe, but the emotion's still there, if you care enough to look. I'm not at all straightforward, I prefer a more oblique existance and much of what I say will never make sense to you, because it is illogical, inane but it's true, damn it, it's the truth. I'm not going to lie to you anymore. I'm not going to lie to myself.

You can pretend that wishing something away will make it disappear, but it won't, and you know it. You know I know you know it. Please just tell me this is all a matter of time until you just give in, circumvent your "best interests" and love me. Just love me.