i was looking through old journal entries last night while simultaneously confessing to you how i felt in spurts of typed up pixelated text (via msn). i was telling you how i thought it might be best if we stopped seeing each other altogether because it was the one thing we hadn’t tried and i really wanted the pain to stop. i was telling you this, fingers nervous but fervent, and minutes after, as i scrolled down the digital documentation of the past months’ emotions in a word document, i saw that this has in fact been a recurring concept that i’ve just been continually pushing away! (the whole quitting cold turkey idea, i mean)

i know it’s the solution. i know it for certain. the problem is, i’ve also learned that i don’t actually want a solution. and maybe we can stop fooling ourselves by dispelling the argument that i may actually enjoy the pain and the suffering that comes from having feelings for you, that i may simply be an angsty teenager who aspires to be a modern day tragedy story; because, to be honest, i avoid finding a solution to this because i’m still hopeful. i still wish that somehow, in some rather unfathomable way, you’ll manage to sweep me off my feet and prove me wrong… that you’ll somehow revert back to that magnificent character i met during first semester of college and you’ll show me how fucking good you can be.

sitting in the sports bar last week, you insinuated that very thing. you told me that i was probably just waiting around for you to realize that you did in fact want a relationship with me. i’d denied that. i’d retorted, as nonchalantly as i could, with a “i’d never expect that from you”. and i suppose i don’t… but on a subconscious level, i pray for you to want to be with me, i really do.

anyway. the point of this was… well, the point w.. i’m not sure. this happens way too often! UGH.

no, no. i’ve got this. the point was that, yesterday, i told you how i felt and, for the first time, i let you in on what were supposed to be my private plans to “quit you”, as it were. this seemed to bother you only a little bit and i think that’s what i needed. i needed the indifference (perhaps —and this is very, very likely— i made you seem more indifferent in my head only to accentuate the sting), but that, coupled with the newfound realization on your part that you still had feelings for the last girl you were with, made for a very easy conclusion to be reached on my part: the solution.

so yeah. i was supposed to stop talking to you today… but i was running along the side of the road in attempts not to be late for a job interview when i nearly tripped over a groundhog ..and, and well the point is that the immediate thought that came to mind was to text you to tell you about it. and i did it. i couldn’t resist. and then you texted back with something light and friendly and i never responded because i like the feeling of having something of yours to read without the dread of waiting for your reply.

and now it’s 1:30am and you’re at your friend’s house having a little high school reunion; a past conquest is there with you.. she’s dating the boy whose house you’re at and i’m nervous. i have absolutely no right to it. i wish i could understand that. i wish i could revel in the “i miss you”s and the “we should get together soon”s that you keep slipping into each text, rather than sulk because of the lighthearted side-comments about how you might hook up with jocelyne tonight. i mean, i know you won’t… you wouldn’t— you couldn’t.. but still, i worry. and i hate that i worry because the whole point of me pulling out, of quitting you, of detaching, is to get myself uninvolved in your life. fuck. FUCK.

i don’t know what else to say. i think i just needed to write out all of this stuff to make myself better understand what is going through my mind, and to perhaps show myself how much of a complete buffoon i am for getting so wrapped up in this shit.