No, no, Baby, I love you, adore you, love you, worship you, not as a jealous obsessive, but as a romantic who misses you so much that when you sleep, and your velvet voice is silent except for light snores and occasional pseudo-****** groans from dreams that I know are about me, I feel compelled with passion to go through your phone and read your texts not because I fear you are cheating on me, or interested in other men, but simply because I ache for the beautiful words that flow from your mouth, words of love, desire  and heartfelt denials of infidelity that cause me to enter a cyber lust to see  and feel the sweet language your electromagnetic waves echo  out into that mysterious void, to recipients other than myself, in soft disembodied language that so easily light up a cellphone or tablet in imitation of how they light up my aching  soul, no no Baby, I’m not spying on you, or stalking you like some  suspicious cyber creep, I love you, truly love you, and am not an insecure untrusting possessive overweight wanna be alpha male droning  on about how grateful you should be that someone like me has allowed you to reside not only within his deepest, purest feelings, but also rent free within the loveliest duplex apartment on this Upper East Side of Paradise because I genuinely and honestly love and trust you Baby….