talking about love

i love talking to you.

but you hardly ever say anything.

that's because i love to listen to you.

but you never seem to get what i'm saying.

i love to watch you talking.

but half the time you are staring somewhere in distant space.

i love the sound of your voice.

but the other day, you couldn't recognise me on the phone.

i just love the fact that the two of us are sitting there, talking endlessly.

but you are always so fidgety, in a hurry to run away.

i love the feeling in my heart, that there's someone i can talk to. someone who'll listen to me.

really?

why else do you think i always come back?