• Confession

    by  • February 25, 2015 • * Safe for Work *, Regret • 0 Comments

    Dear S,
    I am writing this because you are my one regret. What I mean is, that, never confessing my feelings to you is my one regret. You play some part, unknowingly, in how I ended up in that wacky place, although it did do justice for me. Honestly, it first happened, when I was touring, and I first saw you. You looked so lost, the same lost I saw in your eyes later on. I don’t know what it was, but it drew me there. I still remember the intensity of your eyes. My first year we didn’t talk at all, but I saw you in homeroom, I could only observe you, because to be blunt you don’t come across as an easy going guy. But more the reason why I liked you. I could tell you were complex, a loner, not the superficial type. You barely conversed with anyone, just kept your noise in a book, or hand scribbling in your notebook.

    It wasn’t until your last year, that we become friends, amongst friends. And we stayed up late at parties when everyone fell asleep discussing philosophies and poetry. I might have even done something to hint to you, if you and her didn’t get involved. She was my friend. And then, I actually found someone who I was smitten with, so I let the pieces fall and decided it was better off that way, we could be friends. Although he lacked the same depth, and others have since.

    But before any of that begin and was just in the making, do you remember the open mouth kiss? When you were doing things that I wouldn’t dare now, and you told me I was the only girl you open mouth kissed. Even though you were with her at the time, but not very serious; hooking up with multiple partners under the same roof, and she kissed me too. Why did you tell me that like it held some significance? It has played in my mind since like a broken tape, the raspy-ness in your voice hitting my nerves.

    You told me your deepest secret, one night at one party, and somehow I was still not afraid of you. I still wanted you deep down. And when you impregnated her, it broke me apart. And I watched her fuck with other men and drink straight up liquor before she officially broke it off or got the abortion. And then I came to see you when you were broken at your sister’s bar. I was the only one to come. We drank beers at 8 in the morning and sat on the patio. I just listened and was there for you. And then you asked me if I wanted to be your girlfriend. And I inappropriately laughed. Why? because this was the last way I wanted it. I’d rather not have you at all. I couldn’t tell you then even though it was my only chance. Haven’t seen you since.

    I heard you’ve sobered up, and moved away from the urban decay, I hope that the lost in your eyes has dissipated and you have found happiness. If I run into you one day, maybe we can give it go, but if not then maybe your one of those unexplored memories that are more romantic as fantasy and hell as a reality.

    I really did like you.


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