I miss you.
I miss being able to talk to you about everything. Now I can barely bring myself to wish you “happy birthday” or “good morning”. I’m nervous to invite you to social functions. We used to be just about inseperable. Granted we went to different high schools, and you had work, so it was pretty hard to get together, but that one week of testing when all the seniors didn’t have to go to school for a couple hours was one of the best weeks of my life- seeing you every morning, playing at the play ground, shivering, exploring, the thrill of having you walk after me, chasing me back down when I walked away under that bridge…
I wish you would come after me now. I know that if I walked away tonight, you would never know it. You wouldn’t care. You would be clueless. I get it, you need your space, but sometimes I wonder what it is that you’re not telling me. I would just count if off as nothing, whatever, but I know it’s not. I only have one thing that tells me you’re not telling me something- it’s because I’m going through pretty much the exact same thing with another guy. He won’t give me space, he won’t leave me alone, he doesn’t get that I don’t want to be friends. I just don’t want to be enemies with him. I’m not telling him these things. I don’t want this to be the case with you. If I’m doing something wrong, please tell me. If you really just don’t want to deal with me, please, tell me. This whole “I just need to get my head on straight” really isn’t working. I’ve had my hopes high strung for so long that they’re starting to hurt, but I can’t bring them down. You keep me in suspense, telling the world these things on your mind, but I wouldn’t know. I don’t know anything about your world. You don’t talk to me.
I don’t expect you to ever ask me to be your girlfriend again. I really don’t. I don’t even know if I would want you to. Having seen how quickly you asked her to be your girlfriend after you gave up on me and my stupid emotional break downs makes me a little worried about our relationship, even after seeing how incredibly dedicated to her you were. I don’t want us to be another bad memory, for either of us.
Please, just talk to me. Tell me about this new job you’ve been looking into. Tell me about band practice, or how much you hate working at walmart, or what you do for lunch. Talk to me about stupid things that we won’t remember, talk to me about the big things that you don’t want to remember. Tell me about her and him, and how her new boyfriend is being a jerk. Tell me about your frustrations in getting your mind off her, or you’re trying to meet more people, or how your family’s doing. The big things, the little things, us, other people, you, me, I don’t care. Just please talk with me. Text me, call me, walk across the street and knock on my door, but please just at least say “Hello.”
