This was us.
Ugh. I hate that people still ask me about you. And I hate that even when they don’t, I always think about you. I’m moving on, but I am not there yet. I still miss you.
I’ve been sick the last two days, feeling like complete garbage and falling in and out of sleep.
Somewhat Unreliable Boy, despite me not having texted him at all for 24 hours, asked if I was feeling better last night. Unfortunately, I was so drowsy I only gave it a passing glance and promptly flopped back into bed but I remember my last thoughts being “Hmm maybe he isn’t such a flake. How nice”.
Unfortunately I still feel like crap but not as much as before.
He sent me a Facebook invite for a camping trip.
He can’t have done it on accident. He has nearly 700 friends. He invited around 40. Which means he probably had to search by name. He always talked about it-we both adore camping and river rafting and hiking. And doing it with someone I’m in love with? There’s nothing better.
Worst idea ever. I’m not even going to say no, I’m just deleting it from my events and forgetting it ever existed.
Fuck.
I’ve spent some time away to collect my thoughts but I’m still as jumbled as ever.
There’s a boy who is perfect, and the only thing that is stopping me is the fact that I simply can’t see him that way. He’s kind and smart and would be the kind of person who would be there for me, even if I didn’t need him-but alas, the heart wants what the heart wants and knows what it doesn’t.
There’s a boy who is so unlike me that it’s intriguing but I don’t know about him. He isn’t like the first, I don’t think I can expect him to be. I think if anything did happen, he wouldn’t try as hard as I do. And yet he’s far more fascinating than the first, probably because of that fact.
And you. You, you stupid arrogant son of a bitch. I still love you. I haven’t spoken to you for a month and a half and it’s been even longer since I’ve seen your face, but I would still drop everything in a heartbeat for you. Even now. I can’t decide if I’m angry or sad or simply bearing through it all with a brave mask but it doesn’t matter does it? Because, like always, I can’t be angry at you. I don’t want to love you. I still love you. I do still want to love you. I just want you. Again.
This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something.
