I’m double minded about wanting to talk to you. I don’t know if it is the juvenile side of myself still clinging because I don’t know how to accept death of things in my life. I don’t know if it’s all in my mind because I am surrounded by couples and children. I don’t know how I have convinced myself to the possibility that you have what I look for in this world. That you are the one who compliments me most.
Not knowing how you are, not knowing where you are, not knowing who you are anymore leaves me feeling uncertain because, to be honest, they are the opposites of what I dream at night, what I imagine during the day. Like the impossible dream slipped into the miraculous wishes drum waiting for it to be drawn and made come true.
I wonder if it’s just me not wanting to let go of what I was back in the days when you so happened to join me with this journey they call life. Caught in transition between different lifestyles, is it me trying to grasp the old me somehow. Is thinking and wanting to be with you a way for me to have some sort of certainty in my life. Is this just me saying I am a little lost so a little grip onto anything reasonable would do for now.
I’ve given myself so many weeks of excuses of why I shouldn’t call, or get in contact with you. What if’s drive me insane. I hate them. So here I am, almost had my pride aside, building up the courage to man up against rejection. But no. The obscure blank text sent. Meaning of the silence endless and possibility of a reaction unknown. Or even if the number is still being used at all.
The greatest fear is if they don’t remember me at all. If they’ve moved on and I haven’t. Which leaves me feeling pretty stupid and alone. Sad but true, here I am, still not over you.