I’m not gonna fall for him, I’m just wasting time till I die

If I could tell you everything and explain my apparent lack of feelings in the week before and after your final departure I’d lay it down here;

My indifference is really a healing process, the only way I know how. Although my coldness throughout, you don’t deserve- Who am I to make you experience that.

Some days I have this exceptional bond with you, this unforeseen want and need towards you. What I have ever articulated to you was completely true, where I expressed myself more than normal, please don’t think it was any game I was playing.
I did, just want to sleep in your arms for one night; breath out a satisfied sigh as you hold me tight within your embrace. Your chest warming up my body, intertwined and calming.
Gentle and wonderful.

And I ask myself in order to answer you, if you were to continue wondering: nothing went wrong, something was just not there from the beginning. My mannerism is entangled with a necessity to open up quickly, to express my thoughts and secrets in order to feel something more; more than what we had. It’s my way of getting closer and having all of you. The problem was: that was all of you, you didn’t have more to give me.

I rationalise that you are so used to being on your own that the idea of going out of your way for me never crossed your mind. You simply don’t want to and don’t think of ways to. If I were to be fully myself, sweet, trusting and highly demanding, it would only make me vulnerable and burn as I watch you conceal my significance in crowds, and catch your flight and leave me in the end.

Alas out of pure habit I faced your departure before I could be broken. Yes I was strangely sad, but in my eye, your daily disregard, asshole attitude and rootless resolve helped put in prospective your last week of sweet goodbyes. I vowed from last year to not give anything away to you since you never earned it like I hoped you would.

So I didn’t give it away, and had a great month to thank you for.

Today, I can’t hide that I selfishly wish I would still be showered with your generous expressions of longing for me.

Knowing I won’t hear from you won’t stop me reminiscing all the ways your were good to me.

Miss Mess



About iheartmess

A Middle Eastern Londoner 20-something living the 'western' life in between London and home.
This entry was posted in dating, written words and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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