I wonder why we can't

I don't understand why you're doing what you're doing. I could understand if you told me. You leave me, literally, in the dark, while I feel that you are there, in the dark, too. Silly, two people in the dark, but alone. Don't be mad at me because I lose myself in speculations about you and me. They are the only thing that's left when we don't speak to each other. And I hate them. I hate speculation and I hate analysis, it destroys it all. Let's speak.

If I hurt you, then I hurt myself. Maybe it is because we two are candidates for feeling down and selfdestruction. Maybe my own words hurt me more than they hurt you, too.

We may both assume that the other one doesn't like our self anymore, or that the other one is fool, or that we ourselves are a fool. We may try to lose sight of the other one sometimes, just to find out if we're better that way. Maybe it is nothing about me. Maybe this whole thing is just about you.
What the hell is wrong.