I shouldn’t have fucked you.
Not that I didn’t enjoy it or didn’t want to. It was exactly what I wanted. Admittedly, we were both drunk, but I really wanted to. And I thought you did too.
But I think it all went downhill from there.
Do you think I’m a whore? Is that the problem. Look, I know I’ve made every possible effort to assure you that I just want this to be casual, just sexual… but that isn’t true. I really like you. Because you’re absolutely amazing; you are the smartest person I know, you are funny, and fun and carefree, and talented and driven. I love talking to you. You are one of my best friends, and we have chemistry and I just love being with you. But unfortunately, even after that stupid song, you didn’t seem to return my feelings. So I convinced you that I wanted to just be friends with benefits.
And honestly, I’m willing to do that. I know we’re both going our different ways soon and we have such little time left together. So even if it was casual, carefree, I’d still do it. Yes, I like you, but I’m not asking you to commit to me in anyway. I’m simply asking you to enjoy my company like I enjoy yours.
And to stop sending me mixed signals! Don’t hook up with me one night and then reject my advances another, or fuck me and then not kiss me before I leave. Fuck you! Just tell me what you want!
I can’t believe I’m even thinking about you right now. That I’ve been thinking about you for the last few months, even though you’re off, thousands of miles away, having the time of your life. And I really really hope you’re having fun. And I hope that you have thought of me, thought of us, at least once. And I hope the idea crosses your mind that you could be hurting me.
Mostly, I hope that in the time you come back, however short it is, we can fix this. We may only have a couple weeks, but I want to hang out, to talk, to kiss, to embrace. It doesn’t have to be complicated.