People are.......interesting

Get Over It

You told me to write about your hair. I lied and said I couldn't write paragraphs about something so simple, when in actuality, I could've written pages. So then, you told me to write about you. Well that's a little harder. You see, I wouldn't know where to start. I have so much to say.

I don't want to write about you. Writing about you would mean i still remembers the small details about you: How you loved talking about your family, how much time you spent at home watching movies, and how many times you invited me over to watch them with you.

I re-blog posts on Tumblr, totally aiming them towards you, though I know you'll never see them. I'm frustrated because it simple as it sounds to forget someone you've only met in person four times, yet it's eating at the edges of my mind every day. Because even though i could never physically touch you, FaceTime allowed me to hear your voice. To see your face.

You came to me looking for someone to comfort you through your tears and to make you laugh when you were upset, but you were being so unfair.

I'm a Taurus, by the way, and according to bullshit astrology that means I like long-term relationships which means words like "I like you" and "I like talking to you" mean more to me than they should. Words are just words, right? But for some reason your words triggered something in me. I smiled at your stupid puns, and eventually when you asked me to come over, I really wanted to.

Liking you made me naive, gullible, and worst of all, stupid. I find myself hoping for things that I've only experienced in dreams. Thinking a person like you could give me what i wanted was totally insane. I wanted you when you weren't mine for the taking, and i gave you the attention that I shouldn't spent on someone more important to me. With you, I lost track of my priorities, my common sense. With you, I forgot.

I'm torn between telling myself that i wasted my time and trying to believe that it actually could've worked out, but i guess i'll just have to get over it. Because this happened once, and then it happened again. I know they say that the third time's the charm, but after repeating the same emotional roller coaster twice, I'm not so excited to try it a third time.

I realized that with us, only one thing worked. We both wanted to have fun. The problem was my definition of fun was like an old, blue, convertible, and yours was like a high speed, ruby-red porche. Without the specifics and instead bad similies, I'm sure you understand that "us" was never an option, because it was all futile from the beginning.

It was easy. Finding excuses as to why we just wouldn't work together; Even though, I felt so accomplished when I actually made you laugh or when you told me that you loved talking to me, I always knew it wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough.  You once told me that no matter how hard I tried to push you away, you would stay. I said, "Challenge accepted." Now, after all my efforts, I've prevailed, See? I told you. I have a special way of making people hate me.