I seriously can’t do this anymore. Everytime I think I am over you, I am under you again.
For some strange reason I feel as though I am hideously in love with you. The attraction probably lies most with the fact that I can’t have you, firstly because you won’t let me, secondly because you are a narcissistic tart, and thirdly because I am so besotted with you, that if you were to break my heart again, again, I may just stop loving everything. And this has happened before. I started to despise the way I was, the way I dressed, the length of my hair, my job, my social life, doing anything.
I have tried many theories and taken on much advice to try and shimmy away from your love trap – I always lose your loserish games, I always fall for your charm, and I still dwell on how you make me so un/happy. I never imagined, and I know I am not the only one, that I could feel like this just because of a young fellow. And what is this? This, is an intermingling of opposing and extreme emotions, hatred, lust, passion, deceit, paranoia, sadness, content etc. My friends tell me ‘get over him, get under someone else.’ Didn’t work, primarily because this town is all gob, and you’d always find out and make me feel stupid about it. Pixie Lott once sung ‘Have you heard there’s this thing that heals and it’s called time?’ Well, one year, 6 months 12 days, 11 hours 23 minutes since you dumped me on Facebook. Do you really want to talk about the healing power of time? Not that I am counting or anything. Before I made a pontsy attempt at moving away from Devon, my Mother said to me – ‘moving away will do you good.’ But I always still thought of you. Infact I ended up meeting someone just like you; Capricorn, subtly loved himself, careless, you know, went off with nasty girls when he was seeing me. Just like you. Then of course I moved back home again to find myself walking to meet you at your mums house at 4:30 in the morning. Just like old times!
Strange, the thing I look forward to most in life is getting over you. Forget 21st birthdays, growing up, marriage, promotion and all that jazz. Nope. I will be throwing a party bigger than the millennium when I finally see sense. Until then I will just sit at my desk, getting agitated that I haven’t heard from you, going round and round in circles, picking up my phone to delete your number, then putting it down again, picking it back up to send you a 'i-am-so-pissed-off' text message, then putting it down again... going round and round and round.
I don’t understand how we can spend time together, snuggling up, laughing, talking crap, and then act as though none of it ever happens. These marks on my neck that I almost feel privileged having (even though I hate them)…may well fade. But my love for you never does, and it feels like never will.
I really really try and keep my cool with you, but it’s hard because you are so cold. Brrrr