See: a hot as old hell night; 10:21pm

Here we have an example of a living breathing boy:
one who may be a tad naïve about what his future will bring,
how death is not all that is ahead of us,
but he cares.

He cares so much that it makes me ache.
I could never tell him that, but he makes me ache.

Because he also said that he thought that I could go
for weeks without talking to him and wouldn't
give a thought to the non-communication.
All while he'd be in a panic thinking that I'd died.

It makes me nauseous as well; I thought I'd
gotten rid of my ice queen façade months ago.