You found it! Was it worth it?
There are so many unspoken words from my part. Which is funny because I did all the talking didn't I?
No matter, you are here, I am not here.
Are you going to find this creepy? Maybe, but you went out of your way to find it.
I guess that makes us equally as bad? Or worse.
And I know it cirtually means nothing to you. Any of it. Which is fair. But it didn't look like nothing?
If I was braver I'd call you. Demand a answer. But I am not. And you like to shut down.
So it goes.
Anyway... why not me then? I get you said theres no romantic attraction.
But you'd flirt and it almost felt like it might have meant something.
It almost felt like something.
You'd go on about how you thought I was pretty.
You seemed to like to chat. For hours at that.
You liked to hang out.
Then we got drunk and made out in your car. But theres a lot of things about that night I can't make sense of.
For one when we were getting gas you said I was out of your tax bracket, and I said no I'm always broke. You said I just don't know how to handle my money well. I said no I have tuition that's absurdly expensive. You brought up the tax bracket thing again.
The hell did any of that mean?
I remember on the way home, I told you not to tell me about your 2 am grievances after you told me you wanted to make out with someone.
You apologized. I told you not to. I just wasn't over you.
You said I talk about other guys. I said I was trying to get over you.
I apologized for bringing up that I liked you again.
You told me what if you didn't want me to stop bringing it up.
Then we made out in your car.
I told you the cringest shit ever too. Tell me you don't think about me.
Tell me I am not your only cohesive thought at 2 in the morning when you watch porn.
Or when you eat dinner alone.
Or when you see a book I won't shut up about.
Tell me you don't want me.
And you do. Didn't sound like you meant it but you did.
Then you told me you only told me you wanted me to bring up that I liked you because you wanted to have sex.
And that hurt. But I forgave you anyway because I know I will not be only a sex thing.
But you still hung out with me. Then I gave you the stupid clown.
Did you actually like the clown?
I worked hard on it. I wanted to make you something nice?
I don't know. I remember you went to a flea market and pointed it out. I told you to buy it and you said you couldn't afford it.
So, I taught myself how to crochet.
And you'd stay up for hours with me on the phone. Which I liked a lot.
It felt like it meant something. But I think I was holding you hostage wasn't I?
Then you had to deal with me on the phone til one of us fell asleep.
I'm sorry.
Do you think you'll ever answer anything? Sit down and talk to me fully? Or will I continue to dwell on this?
Am I as forgettable as this silence is making me feel?
I know none of this will mean anything.
I think idealization kills people. But to quote Kafka: you would not believe the person I would become if you asked of it.
So long, and thanks for all the fish.