I think I figured out what my plan for tonight was. Or my hope anyway. I would have loved to just go lay on the floor with my head on your chest like that for a few hours. Not saying a single word. And I would’ve left and you would’ve gone to bed and that’d be that.
That’s what I wanted.
Why’d you have to complicate things again?
When we first started hanging out, you said she was your ex. EX. Fucker. And now, over time she’s become your girlfriend in conversation. Well which is it? Were you two broken up and you decided to get back with her? Or were you never broken up in the first place? Cause believe it or not, it makes a huge difference to me.
Cause if it’s the latter, then fine, I was a toy to be played with for a little til you got what you wanted.
But if it’s the former. . . That hurts even worse. Because that means that nothing about being with me was even as good as being without her. If you would rather be committed to a girl in Arizona than be with me, here, what does that say about me? How am I supposed to take that?
When I first met you last year, to be honest, I thought you were an idiot. A total tool.
And a player.
But now. . . . Now that I’ve gotten to know you I found this sweet, totally endearing goofball. We walked around the mall holding hands and flirting and kissing and acting like a couple. I bought you lunches and we would talk and laugh about the fact that we acted like boyfriend and girlfriend but we’d only fuck other people, not each other.
But really, you turned me on so much more than any of them. Plus the anticipation and sexual tension made it even that much more fun. I would be so worked up I’d be shaking after hanging out with you. And I relished that feeling. It was amazing. I knew I wanted you and sex with you would be great. But I loved the teasing too. Because of the way it would make me feel.
I honestly don’t find myself attractive at all. I dont care how many people might say otherwise. I just don’t. But taunting you made me feel a little bit more confident. Made me feel like I was actually sexy. Kinda. Maybe that was kinda fucked up. And I’m sorry if you really didnt like it. Although you didn’t seem to hate it too much. . . .
And so we got closer. Spent a night together, no sex. I loved that night. And when I woke up the next morning I kinda wanted to say “good morning boyfriend.”
Then you really started telling me about the drugs. And even though you said you were still an addict and still just trying to stop, I somehow got it in my head that it was all behind you. Cause I felt there was no way the Jeff I knew would ever need drugs. He was great all on his own.
But then the hotel night came along. And I saw just how intensely drunk you could get. You got loud and boorish. And mean. You were aggressive towards me and it kinda scared me since you’re so much bigger.
And your reaction when Tony started talking about coke took me by surprise. But I just wanted to help you through it. I had no idea how but I wanted to be there for you.
And then we fucked. And you were thoroughly trashed. So you don’t remember any of it. Not me asking you to slow down or stop over and over again. Not you putting your hand on my throat even when I could barely catch my breath.
Jeff I wouldnt dare say you raped me. Because I could’ve really said no. But the look in your eyes. You weren’t the Jeff I was falling for. You scared me. You made me feel dirty or cheap. Like I could’ve been absolutely anyone and you wouldn’t have even noticed the difference.
It wasn’t about you and me, that night. Not for you. It was about your need to fuck something. Anything.
And I can’t tell you how much that hurt.
That wasn’t how I wanted it to happen. Not our first time. I’d fantasized so much about it. It would be slow and gentle and you’d take care of me like none of the others ever have. You would take your time and kiss me and say my name. You’d take my body in with your eyes and kiss me all over.
Rather than just staring at the pillow next to my head and panting.
And then. . . . Right on cue, you got over it all. There was no interest at all. It was all Alex for you. Just know how inadequate and insignificant that made me feel.
I’ve been struggling with those insecurities for so long. So thanks for that.
And then there was Sunday. And looking across tony’s apartment into the bathroom and seeing you sitting there with a belt on your arm. And a spoon on the counter. I wanted to cry. It was like looking at a different person.
Strangely, I wanted to go hug you. To kiss the crook of your arm and pull that fucking belt off. To pull you to me and wrap my arms around you and tell you you were gonna be okay without it and to hold you til the need left. But instead I sat there with my bruised ego and my beer and stewed in my own stubbornness.
Which puts us back to tonight. You wanna know what I’m feeling and what I’m gonna be okay with.
Well Jeff, this is it. This is how I’m feeling. I’ve been listening to “Almost Lover” on repeat for hours and bawling like an idiot. Over a boy who couldn’t care less about me.
I don’t think you and I can really hang out anymore. Not if we’re trying to avoid these feelings. Or a hook up. It just doesn’t seem realistic. Although of course I definitely wanna see you again. I wanna spend the night with you, in your arms. I wanna hold hands and cuddle and kiss and part your hair to the side (which btw makes you look so fucking ridiculously handsome it’s obscene).
But I can’t have all that.
Once again I’m not good enough.
Once again I get left all alone.
“So you’re gone and I’m haunted.
And I bet you are just fine.
Do I make it that easy to walk right in and out,
Of my life?
Goodbye my almost lover,
Goodbye my hopeless dream.
I’m trying not to think about you.
Can’t you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance.
My back is turned on you.
Should’ve known you’d bring me heartache.
Almost lovers always do. . . . ”
This sucks Jeff. I wasn’t supposed to get attached to you.