I miss her. I really miss her.
Bipolar featuring psychosis. "I love how it's featuring psychosis. Like bipolar is the main band playing, featuring guest singer psychosis as backup vocals." She uses humor as a defense mechanism like me. All the pains in life are turned to jokes and funny stories to lighten the mood and become a little more socially acceptable. It eases the pain.
I love her. I hate saying that, and it hurts me saying that because I feel like a dumbass, but in many ways I do. "I think I love my neighbor. I'm not sure what happened when we went camping, but things have just been different. And now there's another girl staying at his place sleeping in his bed. He cooks for her too! I know, because I can smell it. That was always our thing, and now he's cooking for her." I'm watching her get jealous, and I'm not mad. She's free to sleep with whoever she wants. I just don't want her to stop loving me. I don't want to lose her.
"I can see this whole thing playing out. I'm going to go back to long beach, and I'm going to meet another girl, and you're going to get really jealous and suddenly want me again." Her body cringes as she puts her hand out towards my words "Stop! Stop it! I don't want to think about that!" "Exactly, and I'm not going to play this game with you. I'm not going to convince you to like me, and I'm not going to play these push/pull games where you fuck me one night and want to be just friends the next."
I miss the person she was on the way to SF together. When we stopped by the gas station, and I walk up to her car window "Hey do you want anything?" She kisses me from inside the drivers seat wearing her cute sunglasses. "I want a bottle of your kisses... with vitamins and minerals... and and what are those things called? Oh yeah. Electrolytes."
"I think you like unavailable girls. You like the idea of me. I think it's funny that you have a crush on a lesbian. It's very... convenient" she says. "Were you unavailable when we slept together? Or when we hung out in lakewood?" "No, I guess I wasn't. Okay I guess you found a counter-example to my point."
I miss the person she was while we were cuddling in my bed. Playing with her fingernails. "I'm so bad at being a girl. My nails are all dirty." I start cleaning her nails, and she jumps up shocked. "You're picking the dirt off my fingernails?! That's love right there."
"They gave me drugs for my kidney infection, so I'm kinda sorta on my period, but not." "So it's like a question mark?" She starts laughing and crawls on top of me. "I just want to tell you that I love your jokes. Like, they're so quick, and so clever and witty that if you aren't paying attention, you'll totally miss them. I always get so happy when I hear them. I just thought you should know that... and you thought of that all on your own, that's so awesome."
That's what I miss most. Those little moments. Those little moments where I felt loved. Appreciated. Wanted. They're also the ones that hurt the most remembering. The ones I start crying thinking about. The ones I question wonder if they were really real or not. They all felt real at the time. I just wonder how someone can turn so distant and cold the next day just as quick. Maybe they're real. Maybe she was just using me. Maybe we're meant to be. Maybe she really doesn't have a clue what she wants.
And I get this whole "I deserve better" thing. Kinda get it. I hear it, but I guess I don't really hear it. I get that it hurts others watching me "chase after girls that never deserved me in the first place". And how I "don't let in an ounce of the love that's already being given to me by the people around me," and yeah, I get that too. When a friend tells me they love me, and I deserve so much better, but they wouldn't date me, their words just feel kinda empty. I'm not gonna say it's a lie, but I'm a guy that needs some sort of evidence grounded in reality too. Where your words match your actions and what I actually see happening. And I get how this may be just another way I push love away too.
I don't know. I think too much. I'm just really hurt. And I guess when it really comes down to it, I really don't have a clue either. I'm just fumble-fucking my way through this labyrinth called life and love, and wondering why I'm still so fucking miserable. Doing the best I can to chase those "moments" of love that I feel, and letting myself feel all the pain that comes along with it as well. I guess that's all it really comes down to.