I keep bouncing back and forth on what to think of you. I want to see you for the person you really are. How you avoided me and just walked away when you saw me, how you didn’t come in to pick me up from the police station, how when I pushed you away physically when we were having sex and obviously was uncomfortable, but you kept going, and finally rolled over annoyed, sleeping at opposite ends of the bed, how you probably had sex with other girls while you were doing “business” and crawled back into my bed every single night. The thought of you kissing that girl and fucking her while I was there. Every single blonde I see, I look to see if it’s her.
Then I think about the very first time you kissed me when we stayed up til 4am playing mariokart and watching cops. How you refused to let me walk back from my car alone because our school isn’t in a good area. when you looked down at me at the party we were at and sweetly kissed me, looked me in the eyes and wished me a happy Valentine’s Day. And how cute it was you wore red for it. Watching you sleep so soundly next to me, kissing your sleeping face, and you’d pull me close in the midst of your dreams. Even when you had me half off the bed because you’re a bed hog. When I bought my first pack of cigarettes and you threw it in the snow because you didn’t want me smoking, out of complete care, not because you hate smoking. When you’d ask some stranger to hold my bag so you could pick me up and throw me in the snow. You said I was the perfect balance of work and fun. Our adventures of getting lost on endless drives, smoking bowl after bowl, blasting music. When you said you wanted to talk to me at another party, we went into the bathroom and you just kissed me just because you wanted to. Right before spring break when I waited to see you before I left and you gave me the longest hug, and how you told me you missed me a lot when I came back. How blue blue blue your eyes were when they looked into mine. Your face when I made you cum that first time.
I dont care some days, I see how shitty of a person you are. Other days I long to feel loved, someone to make me feel like I’m not a waste of space, I’m not just used by the world, a practical joke. But sometimes my stomach still drops at the sight of you, the mention of your name. I’m like a deer in the headlights when we pass each other. I know dealing with someone like me isn’t the ideal. No one wants to clean up such a mess. Some days the pit in my stomach doubles me over, filled with a whole lot of missing you. Sometimes, I just wish I was good enough.