Enigma

I think of you.

Yet I try, albeit in vain, not to.

And cue the waves of emotion I expected.

No need to elaborate,

what I feel is irrelevant.

It’s simply you.

Oh I miss you.

I hate you,

by god I’m so in love with you.

Or is it just the idea of you?

Inferring that the person I knew you as, of late isn’t the person I dream of.

To be expected though.

The heart and mind...

what an enigma.