Are you asleep or are your eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling pondering on a simple action if you should begin the day by texting me first? Are you flooded with thoughts of me like I think it is? Did you sleep sound or was slumber haunted by horrifying nightmares? Do I tell you my bad dreams and bawl to you because it might be a flicker of hint that I'm frightened to not have you with me? Should I attempt at making you 'blush and die' from over-candied poems proclaiming to you that life might be a tad pointless without you? Or should I await the next truth-or-dare session to secretly and indirectly confess my feelings towards you?

Strange, I still think about you.
You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisition.
You could be the one I'll always love.

Unintended.