I do a silent hopscotch of resentment and sadness; I do not know how I could tell you about my silence and make sure you understood. I have not answered any calls or messages for four days.
Not for any particular reason; and this is not a unique case. I know you get frustrated; I know some become scared. I know your reactions range from irritation, to fear of me just not being interested, to fear I may be ill, to wondering if one's said something wrong.
I am not ill; or, if I am, it is an illness I know so well I consider it health. You can't bring chicken soup to my door.
I am not angry with you.
I am sorry for the inconvenience you feel it causes you.
I resent the fact that it's such a big deal, y'know, that you don't get to exchange platitudes with me every single day.
Nor am I busy. I am not having an affair, I am not busy spending time with other people and ignoring you for their benefit.
I'm just here. Solitary within myself; there could simply be a sign saying Closed on my forehead. I read and walk and stare at walls and enjoy coffee and think of many things; most of which I will deem not interesting enough to share with you when I choose to turn the sign over again.
I am so sorry, sorry, sorry. I do not intend to change.