I tried to talk to you, I tried to ignore you, I tried to yell at you, to message you, to go after you, to declare myself to you.
But the problem is not because of the way I do things, but because you just don't care.
You understand very little what's going on with me. So little that, right now, it's not relevant for what we could have had. You flew away arguing having no patience to me, yet we both know you do. Or, at least, I still got the hope you do.
So, for our own sake, understand this: yes, I'm the king. Yes, I have kings. Yes, I do what kings do when they're kings.
But I still need you. I still want you. I still love you.
That was me talking. The very same me you once look into his eyes and kissed him like you really wanted. The same me that once made your curvy smile pop out in your mouth just because of a ridiculous, funny joke. The same me you shared minutes alone with, but gave his full heart to you.
Come back. Just come back.
We can do this together.