Dear You,

Okay, so we've only been seeing each other for a few weeks. And yeah, I know me leaving for the summer hasn't been a picnic for you either, but it's really hard to see this developing into something more when you don't answer your phone the weekend that I'm up visiting. Quite frankly, I'm not one for relationships. Which I've told you, but I'm not sure if you really believed me. Also not sure if you believed me when I told you that I really liked you a lot and I could see this becoming something more, despite my leaving. Which, I'll remind you, was your idea in the first place. There is, however a limited amount of humiliation I'm willing to withstand.

It's like, when you're there and I'm with you, it's all about the cute romantic crap that I generally gag at, but you seem to be genuine about it, so I guess it's sweet and endearing and I can stand it. But when you're not there, and I'm sitting a hundred miles away and you don't answer your phone or reply to text messages, I'm forced to wonder if you just give me lipservice when I am there.

I hate, hate, HATE feeling like that stupid desperate needy girl. I'm not her. I don't call guys 2356234 times a day. I don't leave pathetic voicemails or send stupid text messages just for the attention from guys. I won't stoop to that level. I'm sick of hearing your voicemail thing pick up and I'm sick of feeling like you're giving me the run-around.

I'm not saying that you should be catering to my every beck and call, but even letting me know that you have other plans already made for the weekend, instead of just ignoring me and leaving me wondering if you even care that I exist would be better. At least then I'd know and I could maybe move on and get over you.

I'm up for trying to make this work. I am. I do really like you a lot. Too much. But I'm not going to keep making myself into that desperate needy girl. So let me know what you want to do, even if it means that we don't talk until I get back in August. At least I'd have an idea of what is going through your mind. Cause I have to say, having conversations with your voicemail doesn't really help me figure you out.

Here if you want me,
Devin