• • •

I said, “we’ve known each other for almost a year”. You said, “it feels like a lot longer”. I laughed with you but inside, my heart lurched and tears immediately stung my eyes. Don’t fucking cry I repeated over and over in my head. Don’t let him see that he made you cry…again. Why not? Why the fuck not? He doesn’t care that he makes you cry. He doesn’t care about you.

I deluded myself into thinking that you had to feel something, some kind of affection, for as often as we communicated. But deep down, I know that you don’t. I tried. I tried to get myself to forget about you, to stop reaching out but every time that I resolved myself to do so, you’d swoop back in and charm me like you do. Honestly, it doesn’t take much. I was convinced that you knew exactly how I felt; you’re not stupid and I’m a bad actress.

Why do I allow myself to care about someone who clearly doesn’t feel the same? Why do I allow myself to condone derisive, dismissive behavior? It infuriates me because I deserve someone who worships me and makes me feel adored. It hurts like a bitch to know that I would never make the cut. That I’ll never be the one who you think about constantly with longing and desire.

And yet, there’s something about our relationship that I cannot be without…don’t want to be without. A day without hearing from you and I am moping around feeling empty and sullen. The second I hear from you my demeanor changes and the sun is shining and the angels are singing. It’s crazy, I know it is. I try to distract myself from thinking of you and it works, for a little while but ultimately, when I’m lying in bed alone at the end of the night, my thoughts turn to you and you follow me into my dreams.

The biggest irony of this situation is that if you did care about me, even just a little bit, I wouldn’t want anything to do with you. I’d lose all interest and any emotional attachment I had would disappear. I think it would anyway. It always has in the past. Maybe one day I’ll know for sure.