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globalfruitbat
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I really don’t know what I’m going to say or what I’m even trying to say but I can’t sleep and something is telling me that I need to at least get this off my chest, even if I don’t ever give it to you. Just for catharsis, you know? (And probably not a word point for that ‘cause it’s a word that I would hope you would know—I’m pretty sure it comes up at least once in ”atlas shrugged”)
Well then Ms. B_______, just what are you trying to say in this tangential rambling blathering way of yours, Hmm?
Nothing too forthright, ’cause I know that anything that I am feeling really can’t be blamed on you. Because you didn’t feel about me the same way I feel about you (trying to be past tense, and I hope it’s a little more everyday, but with me, who knows. I’m vague that way. Sometimes, I guess…) and that isn’t something that I can blame you for, as much as I would like to. It would be so great to be able to be mad at you for not falling back for me, anger works, you know? Then I could just put all of this on your shoulders and be a victim and not really have to deal with the fact that I fell in love (way too easily, way too unexpectedly) with someone who just wandered into my life and the subsequent falling out of all that stuff.
Yeah. Kind of lost momentum there, didn’t it?
And then the fact that I just feel like you really get me, which is just another thing that makes that claw clench in my stomach, because really, you are the only person I want to talk to about this.
And now I think I’m good.
I’ve had my little cry, and I don’t really feel the need to do a midnight mail drop to your house. I’ll just wait around for you to call so we can hang out and just—try to get over you.
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040630
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