It’s worrisome to be me right now. I can say at the moment that I am over you, that your name makes me feel nothing but mild irritation, that anything romantic or angry or really emotional at all has been gone since the concert. For the moment, that’s true. As far as you, I am empty.
But the reasons behind this are very fragile–I found somebody else. And he is attractive and talented and beyond sweet and funny and respectful. And I like him very much, I want something to happen between us, I want to hold hands and watch violent movies and learn to play Halo with him, but I will not try to mold him into you like I did to poor Alex.
But there are a million things that could and likely will go wrong. My little hopeful bubble may burst, he and I may never be more than friends. And I refuse to lie to myself. In that haze of disappointment, I may very well go crashing back into what I call love with you because that’s simply my default emotional state. In-love-with-Thomas-even-if-he’s-an-asshole.
I am afraid. Afraid that the same thing will happen with this boy, that I have a “type” and that type is assholes who play nice for a month before they run like cowards from their promises. But this boy is worth that risk to me. So this is a goodbye to you and my default emotional state. If I do come running back, please forgive me, you taught me to do little else for you but blindly forgive and love.