Talking to Silence

January 18, 2014 at 10:33pm


I LOVE YOU!

I know you know this, and I know I say it a little too often, maybe a little too much; I know that you love me but not the same kind of love. “What is love?” is the question people in love often have for themselves, because you can love many things, many people, but what is that factor that separates those who you love with that one specific person whom you cannot stop thinking of and feel you can’t live without?

I know you have been asking yourself this question when we were together, and you kept feeling that you did not deserve me because you could not find an answer for that question.

I don’t know why I’m writing this letter; if it is a letter at all. But I just wanted to share with you my thoughts, despite the fact that this might never reach your eyes, like many letters I wrote you that I was unable to give you. Because there are a lot of them; letters that were for you to read at the moment I wrote them, regarding situations that were fresh in that instant, but that now are irrelevant, because that time has passed.
When do you know when it’s “too late?” I wonder if my mind can think without questioning itself. Lol. Think not right?

When I think of us I feel I’m in a rollercoaster trip. Everything took so long (I really hope it wasn’t too late), but when things started to happen it was so fast I would believe at times that we were dreaming. I didn’t see it then but now, looking back to our conversations, our actions, I realize that we were both trying to make us fall for the other, we were both jealous, maybe I was a little more jealous, and that’s something I couldn’t recognize, because I was never really jealous.

I fucked up from the moment we met, I was a constant screw up and you need not tell me otherwise. I kept pulling you in, flirting and teasing you, but when we’d get remotely close I’d push you away, saying that I did not want anything serious; you know that this was just because I myself was too scared to let myself fall for you. I was trying to be like you, able to not care and not be exclusive with someone. But I was. I was exclusive to flirting with you.

I tried, you know, to flirt with other girls, I’d go out to 4th Ave. with some friends and I’d try to be more outgoing; but I couldn’t, I was just way too shy to even talk to a stranger. I didn’t have confidence in myself to believe I could pull off the “I’m the cool chic” attitude. And then I’d see you, flirting, going out, having fun, pulling off the whole “I do what I want and no one can ever figure me out.” Maybe that was what made me like you so much. You were who I wanted to become, I didn’t want to keep hurting people, I just wanted to have fun. But fun, for me, wasn’t messing around or drinking, or smoking, or going out to clubs and rocking it on the dance floor. My fun was, to be honest, boring. Going out with a couple of friends to the mall, walk to the U of A and just walking down the streets talking about random things, looking at stores, girls, and listening to them talk about cars and their hometown experiences. That’s what I’d do for fun. And then, still, I could not build the courage to flirt with someone else. I could mosh-pit with a group of lesbians to the songs of ADTR, but I couldn’t properly hit on a single one of them.

I’m not a player, and I know I would never be able to be one. I care too much and get carried away by my feeling so much that I cannot be careless. I wanted to lose myself, I wanted to be different than who I was while I was at job corps, and that just fucked me over and fucked me up; you know why, I know you could see it. You were who I wanted to be, and yet you were the one who kept me wanting to be myself, but I was too shy to act up to what you brought out of me, until you left.

I felt you were being honest when you told me you had written the letter, and I felt flattered that you wanted to rewrite it, because that told me that you cared about me. You know that, when second floor migrated to first floor, they were going to put me in your room? But I didn’t know it was your room until afterwards. I didn’t want that room because I was threatened by one of the chics in there, and I didn’t feel safe. But I was glad to be across from your room (I’m such a stalker, uh?). I still remember when you went to the Center Director’s office and I was covering for the secretary…I feel goose bumps when I remember how hard we’d flirt with each other, I can’t stop smiling and having this warm feeling in my heart when I think about it. And that’s when you told me you were leaving, and I had yet to see that letter that I was waiting on. It hurt, because I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. One day, while talking to Lujuana, she told me she was going to meet up with you and Danny at Wal-Mart, and I went with her, using as an excuse that I needed to pay for my phone bill, but in reality, I just wanted to see you. I was so happy to see you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about that “ghost letter.” And then you’d hold my hand and I kept feeling so shy…I bet I looked stupid lol…

Then we only saw each other once before your birthday…That day…Ugh~! I feel so stupid that I told you I wasn’t going to be able to see you because, if I wouldn’t have said that, I might have had the letter…Your birthday…I feel I was more excited about it than you, then again, I was kind of planning it so of course I was excited about it. I had made you a bracelet, I bought you a cake, then the whole spending time with each other, I wanted to make every single moment special. I remember when you asked me if I liked the “sober” you, and I felt…that my breath was taken away; I don’t know why…I loved it, but I felt that there was a piece missing (yes, the letter).

After that, things started to get more confusing. I feel you were starting to trust me, but then at moments, that you were using that trust to try to push me away, and I challenged it. I told you I wanted to try whatever it was you were on, and you got pissed. I know it was stupid of me to ask that…I don’t even know why I wanted to do it; I had lost myself and had forgotten what it was I stood for, straight edge. I can’t regret the things that I’ve done, but it’s hard when you have hurt someone and you know you could’ve avoided it. I just want to let you know, again, that I did not mean to do the things I did that made you feel I was “just like everyone else.” I hope I have proven that I’m not like everyone else (whoever “everyone else” is).