How come Mr.Hampster has time to talk to everyone but me?

How come I'm the last to know about his internship, who he's living with, who he's meeting, and the classes he's taking? How come I contantc him atleast once every two weeks and i get no reply? Silence. Not even silence. It's like he's dead to me. I feellike the father in the prodigal son story, just waiting and waiting and waiting at home with no word, while my son does things I never taught him to do. But atleast he's doing well. I keep telling myself that that's all that matters; his hapiness. But that's only true until I hear from someone else about his big life changes. That's only a fact until I have a dream about us kissing, a dream in which he says "I don't want to have to move in close to kiss you... You have to meet my lips where they are." That's only true until I send him an email/letter/text/message/phone call that goes unanswered for the a length of time that seems to stretch beyond the horizon and loop around to catch up to me, writing my next letter, imploring him to please, please,please help me understand how he's doing, what he's doing, how he feels... I don't want to hear he's doing well from other people. All that matters is seeing his handwriting, hearing his voice, opening an email, or recieving a text message from him saying "I'm doing well."

That's all I want.