S.

  I decided today that I would write about you. Maybe a zine, a collection of collected fragments, journal entries,  memories, thoughts... in an attempt to bury this thing I've been carrying around for almost a year. I want to be rid of it. It's no longer thrilling, it's a little painful. I'm starting to feel kind of weird when I see you, like maybe I'm crazy and imagined that you were showing interest. 

  I cannot like someone that doesn't like me back at all, at all... That's always been a rule and worked out fine until now. Every time I am ready to close my heart to you completely, you give me the tiniest bit of something enough to make me feel for you again... I thought that it was finished and done the last time I saw you (you were super staring at me, staring at me, staring at me every chance you got, When your friend went to the bar, you came over and made some, at first awkward but then, pretty adorable conversation-the night went on, more looks, more chit chat etc, I told my girlfriend "this is it, it's happening" and then next thing I know, you're leaving with your friends, walking right past me without even saying bye), I could turn my back to you and say "I'm over it" and really mean it but I can't. I pretend I have self respect and think you're rude, childish and just messed up inside but... Instead I stay home and get all gloomy and watch Wuthering Heights and Blue Valentine and read Sylvia Plath. This crush is a bad one... I haven't been hit so hard since that guy with pink hair (I can't even type his name) when I was 16...

  I feel like you're all mixed up and hurting and I'm the only one who'd ever love you enough to make it all go away. I know that this is an unhealthy feeling on my part. Honestly, I realize,  it has nothing to even do with you, all of this. It's me... I've become good at unraveling the threads of attraction. I enjoy falling in love with my mind, all the ideas of what you'd be like, things we'd do together... Humans are such complex creatures made up by layer upon layer of experience... I seek out game playing, wounded, aloof, creative, intense... freaks.

     Writing page after page about you today made me want to talk to you. Go up to you the next time I see you and say "So do you like me, or what?" but honestly, I don't want to hear you even say it. I feel like no matter what you say, I already know that yes, you do, or at least did. And that should be enough. I'm trying to forget all the special, magical traits I'm sure you have. Trying to just pretend I don't care and one day I'll wake up and be free... xo m