I can’t believe you’re here. It was as if fate brought us together again, like it knew I was supposed to try and fix this. That sounds very stalker-like and creepy but it’s true. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we broke up. I think what kills me the most is having to go at it along because no one was allowed to know about us, so I’ve been pretending to be tired for a while. Insomnia is always a good excuse for heartbreak. I get it. I know I broke your heart and I was a shitty fucking person for doing that but you have to let me explain myself instead of always belittling me and attacking me with anger.
You have a right to be angry, by all means, but at least give me a chance to catch my breathe before you drown me again. I wish I could tell you why I did it. It wasn’t a matter of if I loved you or not, of course I did. Still do. You were just becoming so close and it was scaring me, honestly. I’ve never opened up to a person like I opened up with you. You were my first real ‘relationship’. Ever. My whole life had been one night stands but then I met you and it felt different- a good different. Despite how much I love you, you scare the hell out of me. That’s why I wanted to keep you at a distance. I don’t know why I thought maybe keeping it casual would keep things normal. Plus you were always in Arizona and I was always in California, so I assumed we were still just fuck buddies since you kept me so hidden.
I’d sleep with those people to get my mind off of you, to maybe get back to my old self, but I never once enjoyed it because they didn’t make the noises you did. None if them smelt like you, none of them moved their hips like you, none of them tasted like you, none of them laughed like you, none if them were YOU. When you found out I thought you would see that maybe this was just a casual thing. I should have known better. When you said it was over my heart felt as if someone stabbed it with a pin and deflated it. I tried to move on, I did. I slept with more people to distract myself, I got drunk like I vowed I never would because my father used to, I smoked whatever I could get my hands on, I tried my music, I came here. But you’re here. And everything always comes back to you.
So I’m sleeping with more people around here to distract myself, I work at a bar and get free alcohol, but I still see you everywhere. I try to keep myself from hurting but I only seem to be hurting you more along the way. It’s killing me slowly. I used to joke around saying you would be the death of me, and somehow, it might end up being ironic.
