What they say is true.
I wrote the following post about a summer romance, let’s call him Mr. R. He was someone I really thought at the time I could not get over. Mr. R and I only lived an hour away, it seemed so close at the time, so manageable. But it didn’t work and by the 5th month I knew it was just a crush.
I won’t deny that from time to time I still think of him, but not like the contents below. I do like remembering how infatuated I was by him. 🙂
4 months 20 days and counting.
Somethings happen in my life that remind me how much I wish I had you;
Whilst you’ve developed some magic trick to ignore me.
And I won’t even say it. Arms crossed, defiant. I. Don’t. Care.
I don’t wish you the best with anyone else if I. Can’t. Have. You.
I haven’t felt like that in so long,
Even though I have been trying recently.
I’m so scared I’ll never find someone who did, would do, things for me, like you did to me.
I hate being selfish when I’m well aware how stupidly I discarded you.
What was my fear of distance? You made the days so easy.
Why could I just not keep you? You tried so hard to stay with me.
People say words, I go through things, and then there are the habits of mine that all remind me with force and certainty that you are the one.
I wish I could write to you now, I wish I didn’t feel so out of place to tell you how I feel. I know you’ve been the bigger person, you kept quiet, kept your thoughts subsumed so you could move on easier, and let me live my ways easier. I wanted to get you in front of me to shake out the tinniest inkling of hope out of you. So I could finally breathe in again.
I’m scared, I’m scared of hurting you, I’m scared of hurting myself. I’m scared of not knowing what will happen. And I’m trying not to hide my emotions, but I don’t want to scare you with the things I say. And I’m trying not to be insecure and be so unsure of whether you like me, but I can’t help it. Maybe because there’s so much I don’t know about you, what you’re like in a relationship, the girls you have been with, all these things that are really, really not important.
I’ll stop rambling now.
Instead I’ll stay silent, brooding, and moody. Let you recoil into your shell, angry and defeated, and we can start to ignore each other and both breeze through in time like this never happened.
It didn’t happen.