she said

Fridays & Saturdays.

Texting and phone calls between the hours of 10pm-5am and an effort to see you during the week. Not my full attention, but I will try my very hardest to show that you do in fact have a role in my life.

I won’t remember your birthday. I forget my birthday some years. Almost all years if we’re being honest.

Some nights I won’t text back, some days I won’t speak to you. Not because I don’t miss you, and not because I don’t care. I get caught up in work and I’ll eventually make my way back to you.

Staying in bed and sleeping all day together is a top notch most romantic gesture in my book. Throw in a pizza and you’ve successfully made me swoon.

I have a passport. I’m ready to go whenever you are. I can pack my entire life inside of a book bag.

I will treat you with the respect you deserve, but I will let you down eventually. I’ll make you mad, upset, disappointed, crazy, and infuriated. I don’t do it on purpose, but my way of life has never been easy to swallow for most people who love me. But I won’t give up on you.

I’ll make adjustments and understand that a relationship is 50/50 and the ground work should always be leveled evenly. I won’t hold you back and I hope you’ll always support my ambitions just as I will support yours. We won’t be easy. This, won’t be easy. It will probably be difficult as fuck to love me. I’m a work in progress, and you know, aren’t we all?

Its your choice. I’m here if you want me.

“The realization that I was not the omniscient narrator of my own life was a rather confusing one for me. I was the kind of child who was used to being more clever than everyone else, and I was (and still am) very, very stubborn. The realization of my own inherent fallacy would have destroyed my self-esteem utterly if I did not come to a second epiphany simultaneously; yes, I was wrong most of the time, but so was everyone else. And, considering how rampant human fallacy is, I’m surprised more people don’t seem to have come to the conclusion that there is nothing sacred in the universe besides the extremely high chance of error. Accepting that doesn’t mean you should stop doing things because you’re wrong or might make a mistake - a lot of the very best discoveries are made by accident. It should, instead, make you feel freer to be wrong.”

He’s just not interested.

We weren’t right at the moment. The distance, our obligations to jobs, creative occupations, and both of our hesitations to begin with. We were just too busy. But in my head, I set up this notion that when the time was right, and when the distance closed or the hesitations were pushed aside, we would be something. So, slowly through the course of time, when phone calls started to be infrequent, plans were being canceled, text messages were obsolete, and my social media connections no longer seemed to have his attention, I quickly realised what my head didn’t want to. He wasn’t interested anymore.

It sucks. I can’t blame him for not being interested. I’m not blaming myself either. It wasn’t our time, and you know, it probably will never be our time.

I’m actually not even bummed about putting two and two together by facebook feed. Or that this amazing guy no longer wants something more with me. It just sucks witnessing first hand going from all of the attention to being completely invisible. The actual physical evidence that you’re no longer relevant in that persons life anymore. Poof. Just like that, you’re in the past and somebody else has his present and you’re watching it happen.

I didn’t want to fight for it. I didn’t feel the need to even speak up. I knew I couldn’t give him what he sought after, and where he is at now, I’m sure will be a much happier place than with me. I just miss him, and I miss being the special one in his life. It’s selfish, but i got rather fond of feeling things with him. That’s just how it goes sometimes.

Social media sites launching ad-free then introducing ads once they’ve built a big community is like needy creeps pretending they just want to be friends then making a move 2 years later when you’re crying on their couch.