I’ve tried for a painfully long time but it doesn’t seem to go. This is madness, I’m sure. Surely I cannot feel like this after all this time. But then I hear the bastard beating right inside my chest and as much as I want to deny it, it’s right there, ‘in your face’, as people belonging to my generation would put it.
I can’t seem to forget him. No matter how hard I try. Despite reminding myself EVERY SINGLE NIGHT that the last page has been turned, I can’t forget him. He feels like a part of me now. Like an inseparable part of me. And it’s unusual because I hardly knew him (I think!!)
He’s the kind of guy you just randomly stumble across..at bar or some really random place, when you’re probably sitting at a table reading your favorite author or sipping an Apple cider beer..Just sipping, enjoying your drink, not thinking about anything in particular..concentrating on some pattern on the table and you randomly look up and pan across the room, not thinking about anything..And while panning, you happen to see this guy look up at you and something catches your fucking attention. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, in this very somber, effervescent way, or maybe it’s that haunting depth you notice in his eye, like he’s drowning in them himself. He’s the kind of guy who then comes over with this almost mischievous smile and ten minutes later, you’re discussing non-vegetarianism with him. He’s the kind of guy that looks into your eyes and you feel naked, like he’s almost reading all the secrets you try so hard to hide behind your eyes..the kind of guy who wouldn’t touch you even after knowing you for 3 months (and we’re talking ‘best friend-sh’ material here) but looks silently at the way your lips hold your cigarette. He’s the kind of guy who does not get scared when you tell him that you hate his “I love you”s and his use of “We” in every sentence that refers to him and you collectively. He’s the kind of guy who stays up all night to tell you something profound and beautiful the next morning just because he wants you to read it as soon as you wake up and then start your day..the kind of guy who writes you poems instead of cheesy bullshit, wakes up at 5fuckingAM to wish you “happy journey” for your flight..listens to you talk about bullfuckingshit when you’re sloshed and jabbering about how awesome trains are..He’s the kind of guy you giggle with over the phone when you’re completely stoned. The kind of guy who makes you feel all warm and fuzzy and weird inside.
And then you push him away because you realize (read WRONGLY PRESUME) where it’s headed.
Yep, my head’s all fucked up that way. My life has conditioned me to believe that every relationship I begin to cherish is doomed to meet its ‘destined’ end. And so, before destiny takes it course and destroys something, I race that bitch to the end and do it myself. No particular reason. One minute it’s there; we’re all giggly, all funny and cranky over texts, next minute we’re saying goodbyes. The butterflies drop dead and ice cream, alcohol and badly rolled joints become the way to go.
The weird thing about this is that (surprisingly!), I don’t feel a thing anymore. Just seamless lament for letting go something I could have possible taken a liking to. (Truth be told, I actually did like it. Very much. But that was the fucking problem!!) But apart from that, nothing. I’m not heartbroken or disdainfully depressed or cold or anything. Just a little sorry.
Sure I miss him but Sundays are just 6 days apart :P (If you know what I mean). The only time my thoughts aimlessly wander over to him is when I’m about to fall asleep and a few seconds later, I guess it doesn’t matter really =/
But I definitely feel that something within me has changed. And I don’t completely think it’s because of him. I like to believe that I’ve become little open to the idea of…maybe letting someone in..maybe letting someone know me the way I know myself (because there isn’t a single fucking person who does -.- )..It would be nice to have someone to talk to till 3am on some nights (Nights when I don’t have assignments or I’m not getting sloshed or sleeping :/ ) I’d definitely like to feel a little warm and fuzzy and butterfly-ey at times :) That’s a nice thing right? Isn’t this what makes life a little bearable? Feeling nice?
But me being open to all this still doesn’t negate the fact that I still can’t seem to get him out of my head. He’s just there!; inside my head like that buzzing sound when you close your ears really tight. Just fucking there! Immobile. Light. Thoughtless.And breathing.