Two Wednesdays Ago

“You see, I understand clearly.”
What, exactly?
“Why you treat me the way you do.”
[…]
“You’re not going to ask me what I’m going to say?”
[…]
“Really.”
You’re going to say it anyway. What is it?
“You… you are so infuriating. I just don’t understand why, why, why.”
[…]
“Don’t look at me like that. You have to explain why.”
Why you feel that way?
“Why you made me feel bad. I thought we were friends. You were one of those people who made this space safe. I’m not close to anyone here, not really. I loved coming here because I’d be seeing you.” (You made me better. You made me aspire for more. You made me believe in myself, something I haven’t had in a long time).
[…]
We’re okay now.
“But I need to know. Why?”
[…]
“You’re such a jerk.”
You knew that already.
“Okay. So… nothing?”
We’re okay now.
“Okay, thanks.” (All those words, thoughts, nights, and sounds wasted wondering; hoping that I meant something to you. You made me move. You pushed me into the direction I needed to go. I thought at least, I mattered to you. You said you loved me.)

The mood just fades. There’s a promise to talk, yes. But do I even want to? Do you even want to. It comes to a point when a person you thought–

Suffice to say, he never felt the same about you.

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