113 messages for this morning only. We exchanged 113 messages. Isn’t it just madness?

Well, if that would be me standing in your doorway with a cup of fresh coffee, I’d say it is, indeed, madness. ( Great word, by the way – indeed – word that Americans never use) I’d be smiling, thinking: “poor you, what you’ve done to yourself ?”. Yes, I’d probably be doing that if it was your story. But it is not. Sadly not. Apparently, this is my story. Indeed. 

I deeply dislike all the internet romances. They make a worse person out of you once you’re on the board. You start to be suspicious, start looking through all the comments he wrote under other girls’ pictures. You ask him what his is doing, why he just smiled when he had a quick look at the phone screen. You wait for him to write to you every freaking second and you keep caring all those devices with you, because some apps you’re using for chat aren’t installed on your phone. He suppose to write “good night” or simple “I’m off to sleep” to make you go to bed. And still sometime you cannot actually fall asleep – you just lay there with your eyes closed, deciding whether he lied about going to bed and how wonderful it would actually be, if he’d be here next to you. But you fall asleep alone. Obviously.

Then comes the morning. You open your eyes and your hand is already reaching for your phone, even though you’re not sure what day it is or whether you have to get ready for work. Your brain is still asleep. You check all your apps desperately. Sometimes he writes, but that, he explains, because he was out all night and got home just now, so he thought it’d be nice to say “hi”. Then he is really off to sleep. That’s the part, where you finally realize he lied to you last night about going to bed. Hm… But he stopped by to say “hi”, so it does mean something. And you cannot concentrate the whole day waiting for him to wake up and being online again: available for skype, whatsapp, texting etc. And all of this repeats every day. No exclusion.

113 messages for this morning only. He’s talking to me. To ME. I am an idiot. Thank God I am able to realize that.

You see, I am dreamer. Love to build my castles in the air. I think it’s beautiful, it is art after all. Sometimes I even forget to come down to Earth for breakfast. Sometimes I just stay there. Stay at such castle makes you forget this world isn’t as perfect as you want it to be. So you have to convince yourself and after that part is done, comes a little bit more convincing. I don’t mind.

113 messages of madness. This morning I decided to reread them from the very beginning to understand what kind of treasure is hidden there. I mean, if this guy makes me so shaky and silly, there have to be a real treasure hidden behind his words.


What’re you doing?

I am chilling on the couch

I have to go, but really rather stay with you.

Oh,no. You’re leaving..

What’s up, sexy?

You’re hot

Still thinking about your body

Are you doing great?

You turn me on!

Where is the treasure? If you think better, silly, those words and compliments are just words and compliments. Not more, not less. He never asks about your life: who you out with, what’s your favorite ice cream, where you go, when you feel sad. He doesn’t ask whether you like dancing in the rain. Everything you know about him and his life that he’s crazy about you and he’s chilling on his couch for 24 hours a day. Marvelous. No, really.

Note to myself: stop waisting your time, take your favorite book or have a chat with a good friend of yours.

113 messages. Silly 113.

Sincerely yours,


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