house fire.

read 8:27 PM

"Whatever," I say. "I don't care. Your loss anyways."

I know its a lie, but what else can I say when you're the only thing on my mind? How else can I convince myself to give up this fight?

You told me not to talk to you, and I thought that wouldn't be hard. I didn't think that text would hit me like a fuckton of bricks and put my soul into a meat grinder. Thanksgiving wasn't hard; then again, I wasn't running the risk of running into you. Those two weeks in between one break and the next were miserable - anxious, so fucking anxious, I was, hoping and praying and hoping some more I wouldn't see you.

Unfortunately, hopes and prayers run out. We crossed paths on the brickway, Wednesday at 1:47 PM. I only remember that so specifically because merely crossing paths with you skyrocketed my anxiety. I thought about that moment for the next week.

At night, I remember what it felt like to lay next to you. To hold you in my arms at night while you were fast asleep and my insomnia denied me such a privilege. To feel you breathing next to me, to feel you holding onto my deadweight arm that was wrapped underneath you, to feel you subconsciously move closer to me.

At night, I remember the sound of your voice the last time we spoke in person. Quiet, dreamy, peaceful. Familiar. I remember hearing your laugh echo from the top of the world - I've been trying to convince myself I hate it. I remember hearing your voice crack after you listened to me cry for twenty minutes. You were trying not to cry, and you were trying to hold it together after Id just word-vomited and ruined everything, and you were trying not to let me know how you really felt about the situation. But, neither of us are the type of person to hold onto our feelings silently, and so at 8:27 PM, you told me how you really felt and I left you on read. Totally didn't cry about it in the shower that night. Totally haven't let it eat away at my emotions. Totally haven't let it keep me up at night.

I try to tell myself all the reasons things are better off with a cinderblock wall between us. Avoiding more drama has truly been a relief. But at what cost did that come? I tell myself I don't need you, why would I need someone who played me? Who toyed with my emotions? Who laughed about it behind my back? Because shes someone who makes me believe in romance again. Someone who warms my heart and awakens the feelings I thought I could never feel again. Someone who stops me in my tracks every time I see her, and I cant be mad at her for what shes done to me.

Anxiety makes a person obsessive. And then it will make you overthink your feelings because obsession is weird. Its not my fault you're still on my mind, but I'm so upset with myself for still thinking of you and wanting you back. Normal, rational feelings get turned into obsessive bullshit by my stupid anxious brain. The same brain that put me in this fucked up position from the moment I fucked up. The same brain that still doesn't see anyone else out there who makes me feel the way you do.

3:42 AM: God, I just wish I could sleep.