Youngblood

I'm like a damn dog-
How quickly I answer when called.
And how I try,
Try to pretend you're not in control,
But we both know the truth.
And I hate that you know it,
Hate myself for allowing it.
But yet
I am keenly aware each time
Your name comes across my screen,
And I'm already counting down
To when it's acceptable to answer.
Is this what love is now?