dearest hycaeit,
yesterday was such a confusing day for me. in the morning i was rather giggly and gushy in a girly, blushy kind of way, which isn’t all that surprising given that’s how you’ve always made me feel… all the time… and frankly that’s why i like you so much – the way you make me feel.
did i just quote the lyrics of some song?
then in the afternoon your messages sent an ugly signal, speaking of things and going-on’s that i did not care to hear and could not bear to hear. i could learn to appreciate your candid approach to our friendship but most of the time i’m too confused by your ignorant insensitivity, unable to properly digest the content of the ill messages let alone how i feel about them.
should i tell you to shut up when you say things that hurt me? will you think i’m petty and crazy? should i act and behave differently in a way that i think is more akin to your taste? if i changed, would you think i’m crazy (again)?
ai. confused? hell ya. confused about myself. nobody makes me doubt myself, except you.
if only you were just an ordinary insignificant other. we get along so well, we’d be best of friends, soul mates even. in another life, perhaps. i am yet to develop the ability to be friends with you. just friends.
in my time of need you weren’t there. i’m not of any significance to you so it’s not as if you had any obligation to be there. i just want and wish you to be there. fundamentally different notions, i know. like today, when in your absence another lovely white knight in shining armour came to my rescue, i could not help but wish it was you instead. i wished you were the one feeding me the soothing soup and taking me on a cool summer drive for fresh air that i’ve been craving.
this had nothing to do with you. perhaps you would have offered something similar, if only you had called half an hour earlier, not half an hour late. even so, i cannot help but think my value to you would not have been more than a convenient time filler – what else could an insignificant other such as myself possibly amount to in your eyes? so it’s not as if you’ve done anything wrong…
except maybe all the other times when you, intentionally or not but always effectively behave like you want your cake and eat it too. do you even know what that means? do you even know that’s what you’re doing? to me? although, even i have trouble believing that as the truth, no matter how times and how many people tell me the same freakin’ thing. either way, the bakery keeps feeding you cake… so i guess the saying “it takes two to tango” is oh so abso-fucking-lutely true.
till next time, the bakery.
