Having feelings for me have turned you into a worrier. You worry about my alcohol intake versus my body mass; my proximity to smoking co-workers; whether I'd get caught in the rain; and why I didn't return any of your 3 sms while I was charging my mobile phone. Please, this isn't really you. You worry so much about the inconsequential stuff I can't bring myself to tell you more serious ones. I can't say: Look I think I sort of twisted my left foot while running today but fuck that, cos I've bought a wonderful old album by Alpha. I can't say: Worry about the war or SARS instead.

I don't need to be pampered by over-concern.
I just feel tired.