Wednesday 21 September 2011

I can't even think of the words.

God knows I'm rubbish at talking about myself or how I'm feeling. This was supposed to be helping that.
But I'm feeling ridiculously awful and I can't explain it.

I thought it was just shark week; you know, hormones. But I think there's something else to it. But I don't want it to be what I'm thinking it might be. I'm stronger than that. Really.

I don't get worked up over this kind of thing. It was a week. a week. Yes, it was a brilliant week, but only 5 days. Not even that, 4. 4 DAYS.
What the hell is wrong with me? How did I manage to let you get this much into my head when I've known you for such a short time?
I want to hate you for that.

I'm not kidding when I say I'm trying to give up on you though. I really don't want to be this worked up over you. You're this kind of person and I think I always knew it. I thought seeing you would make me less fed up, but it didn't. And that's how I know that I'm genuinely bothered. And that I'm also doing a better job of leaving you behind me.

Plus you clearly lied to me. I really can't be doing with that. And even if what you told me wasn't a lie, the context was. You did not 'jet off' that day, and we both know it. You just wanted to be with other people. The least you could have done is told me you changed your mind. I would have been fine then. At least you would have been up front. Pssh.

I got 4 days of your time, and thanks for that.
I guess I'll just see you around.

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