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Ridiculous. That's how I feel. Every time that I look at my phone.

I know the sodding thing hasn't gone off. Of course it hasn't gone off. I put it in my line of sight so that I will know when it lights up and it's on my desk, I will hear it vibrate when it goes off and yet, ridiculously, I still press the button to check, just on the off chance that I've missed the buzzing and the flashing.

And why? What am I waiting for?

Do I really still expect him to text me when he's been doing such a bang up job of not communicating with me for the past what five and a half hours?

I know he's at work. I get that. But so am I.

And it's not as if he's never texted me while he's at work before.

This would be easier if I heard from him after work. But I don't. Or, I rarely do.

And he asks for understanding, telling me that he's stressed, that he's busy, that for this reason or that that he just can't put me first.

I don't want to be first, I just want to be on the damn list of priorities.

Oh I hate him.

Then my phone lights up. The little speech bubble with the smiley face pops up in the corner of my screen and I know that I have a text.

Git.

Just with a simple "hows you" I am back to smiling, back to loving him. Git.

I don't even care about the lack of punctuation, the bad spelling or his frequent use of "lol" because at least he's replying.

Ridiculous