Come back to me.

Say something, I'm giving up on you.

You see, both of us are never straightforward. Everything will run smoothly and then either one of us will screw up and we're back to square one again. I don't think you fully grasp the magnitude of how much I like you.
When I screw up, there's always a grace period before we patch things up again. Three weeks at most. And then you're back with your tail in between your legs with your uncertain smile and your apologetic eyes, looking to see whether or not I've forgiven you. You're always unsure if I would. Of course I would. Now that you're on the wrong doing end, I've tried making you guilty just as you've made me feel before.
And I think I'm doing a pretty good job at it. Well, at least I hope I am. I hope you take the time to realize that I'm upset and that you have to do something to set things right again. I'm sure that that small gesture of yours was an olive branch offering, but I'd like to see something more.
Text me for heaven's sake! I bloody miss you. There. I said it. I miss you. A lot. A whole freaking lot.
I'm really upset with myself as well. I've let myself down time and again. I really don't deserve to treat myself this way. But I just can't seem to help it. Gosh, I wish I had more willpower to conquer my demons and preserve my victory.
You know that feeling of being disappointed with yourself? You feel like floating on a wave of air untethered and there's just so many bad emotions coursing through your chest and bogging your spirit down.
It's only the first week of the semester and I already feel like giving up on everything; partly because of the ridiculous workload, partly because of our situation, and partly because of what I've done to myself.
It's funny how when during the semester we look forward so badly to the semester holidays and when their do come around, we never actually accomplish anything significant during the course of the three weeks.
That's mostly what it is. That feeling of unaccomplishment which psychologically bothers me so much. I can't bear the thought of not amounting to anything significant.
And I miss you. Did I mention that? I want to see you. I need to assure myself that what I've worked for after all these years wouldn't be for nothing.
Come back to me.