We found ourselves in the park. It was there where I poured out the emotions that I’ve kept bottled up for the entire week before. He was completely understanding, even had a confession of his own. And that’s when I woke up, well, after fast forwarding to him pinning me against a wall, having his way.
In reality, this past week has been emotionally draining. I’ve ignored my ultimatums, only to find myself in a very uncomfortable and painful position. I hate to state the obvious, but I _____ that boy. And it kills me.
What I need, I feel, is distance. Not so much to where I’ll end up hating him, but enough to allow me to get over the idea that I have any chance with him. That means, you: stop being such a fucking flirt. After pulling an all-nighter, I stormed out of the house for the bus stop with the mindset that I won’t be taking shit from anyone. And I didn’t, not even from him. The day before he was being such an ass, so I readied myself for more of it. Rather than anticipating his presence, I acted as if I could care less. I think doing so might prove effective because if I don’t get my hopes up, then I won’t be disappointed. Makes sense, doesn’t it?
I made him come to me, and when he did, spoke with a cool cynicism, taking him off of that plateau of my regard.
Fuck. I still haven’t talked to him either. Whatever; we’ll see how his absence over the next few days affects me.
I thought I had this entry figured out. Looks like I was wrong.