I’m really sorry, I’m so sorry. The thing is that I’m pretty sure I’m sorrier than you are angry, or at least that I’m more hung up on it than you are, although you’re so complicated I never quite know what’s happening. The fact that I’m so hung up on it also proves that I’m not nearly as sorry as I should be, and also the fact that I didn’t feel even slightly guilty when I did it. I didn’t even feel very guilty after I’d done it, only after you found out, and then I mostly felt ashamed like I was being told off for being a naughty child, when I was a real dick.
You texted me “it’s cool. dick move but it’s cool” and that was the only anger I got so I don’t really know, but I do know you were angrier at him. Because you feel guilty? Because you’re angry at him all the time? I don’t fucking know. I guess I don’t really need anger because you’re secure in the fact that he really likes you and that you don’t have to worry which makes me feel worthless, and then worthless for feeling worthless, and then I’m reminding myself that he clearly liked me at least a bit because of that night even if it was weird straight boy self congratulation because he found my fucking blog and thought he’d turned me straight or something (he said bisexual though, he’s not even an arsehole, fuck). And that’s just a horrible amoral thing to do, acting like it was a good thing, and everyone else is just moving on and I’m still hung up.
The problem is that I’m in love with you as well. I wouldn’t say that I’m in love with him, that’s way too melodramatic – more like a big painful crush (he’s five inches shorter than me why am I doing this) which you know all about because we had the same big painful crush until by some miracle of nature you started dating him and then the official history was changed which is definitely not your fault. I am in love with you though, and your best friend (and you two are probably in love with each other, let’s be real, as in I know you’d date her and you’re the only one she properly loves). This is such over the top teenage bullshit but I love you and that one time we made out drunk a lot was probably the best night of the year (quickly morphing into the worst because of the boy we were also making out with but that’s also not his fault). I love you so much and I hate your eating disorder and your panic and your lack of self worth but I also hate you for dating him and him for dating you and you’re going to have sex soon and I am so pathetic and in some utopia I could date both of you but that’s not going to fucking happen. I love you so much it hurts you idiot you fucking idiot I am a disgusting predatory lesbian but I love you and I’m sorry.
I wish he wasn’t the only goodlooking boy in the school and I wish he wasn’t so emotional and I wish he didn’t have that haircut and I wish I hadn’t spent five hours talking to him drunk and I wish he didn’t speak three languages and I keep wishing a lot but this is so pointless because there is absolutely nothing to act on in this part of my life, just a lot of closed doors.
At least I know you and I will make out drunk again at some point. I love you so much. I wish our life wasn’t such melodramatic teenage bullshit and I wish we were both less stupid when drunk. I love you.