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you aren't always who you think you are

i'm lying on my belly with the electric fan off and still i'm freezing. this is me, in a tropical setting in early january.

it has been nearly a year since my last tears, which were half of joy, half of sadness.

a year ago today, my world was the complete opposite of everything it is today. how sad.

it was then that i made a wish for it to last forever.

everything was different in about a month's time. real happiness short-lived, as usual.
"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats

thursday.

and as we leaned into the afternoon,
i did not notice then
how your hands gripped mine
a little less tightly
and how your smile
seemed a little less warm.

i did not realize it was goodbye.
"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats

subtlety is sexy.

your silence, however, is not amusing.
"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats

one month

it's been a month.

i'm still alive.

i can't really say i'm okay, because i'm not. not really. and i'm afraid i'll be like this for a while longer.

i'm still alive.

and it's no thanks to you.
"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats

of abandonment.

one day i was happy.

a few days later, you'd up and disappeared.
"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats

at the risk of sounding melodramatic

it feels as though i've been cut open, my lungs wrung out of air and my heart yanked out of my chest.

yes, this is your doing.
"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats
"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats

conversation open-ended.

there are a thousand scathing remarks i want to send flying your way. when we spoke earlier, there was little holding me back. but then i saw the look on your face and i couldn't. you just looked so tired and sad and helpless that i couldn't bear to add to it.

i'm so afraid to know what you're thinking. at the same time, not knowing is killing me. i'm scared to hear that you love her and that you don't care for me at all. i'm scared to hear that we were a mistake. i'm scared to hear that the whole time you were with me, you were thinking of her. i was your meantime girl, wasn't i?

what i've failed to tell you is that while all this confusion was hovering above our heads, i began to have feelings for you. most people have feelings and then make out. it's a damn shame it had to work out the other way around for us.

i was watching Juno this afternoon. the song at the end goes "you're a part-time lover and a full-time friend..." and i thought that's how we were. i guess i was wrong.

and don't go on about "right love, wrong time." because i'm pretty sure you don't feel that way for me. but i'm still hanging on to the hope of such a possibility. tomorrow spells out my future.
"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats

truth: a letter to him.

confession: i want to hold your face in my hands, look into your eyes, and kiss every inch of your face. again and again until the world seems to stop completely, until you realize this is real.

i'm afraid you don't want me. you probably don't. i'm waiting for our conversation, but every minute is torture. do you know how many meals i've thrown up because i'm so scared that the butterflies in my stomach are going frantic?

i need you to reciprocate these feelings, because i'm not sure what i would do if you didn't. i'd live, yes, but how, i'm not so sure. i'd probably wander from one day to the next, dwelling on "what if".

what happened was not a mistake. it was one of those blessings in disguise, so i wish you'd fucking stop apologizing for it. do you regret it? because i don't. i don't regret realizing that i do have feelings for you.

i don't think i can go and be just friends. you know as well as i that there is something behind this. and it might be going out on a limb to take it any further than friendship, but how will we know otherwise?

but then, if there's someone else, then i won't even try to convince you; i don't want you to have to choose. but you can never look at me that way again.

because you do. a lot. every time i catch your eye, i can tell the whole scenario is playing in your head again, just as it is in mine. you can't ignore it either, can you?

don't wash your hands clean of this.
"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats

questioning direction.

it never
occurs to me
which way is up or down.
if north is up
and
south is down,
then why does
the sun rise to the east,
if
the sunrise means
the sun comes up into the sky?
if west is left
and
if
east is right
then why are we going south
when i'm going east
and you're going wrong?

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"tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." - william butler yeats

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