I know I probably have better things to write about (actually, I know I have better things to write about--expect a theatresquee within the next few days), but this keeps spinning around in my head in half-phrases. I think I saw him today, but each time I try and revisit that few seconds of "is that...?" and dealing with the tingle my body gets when I see lumberjack plaid (it's not a pleasant tingle, more akin to a heart attack), I realize it doesn't really matter. The logistics of the situation say it wouldn't be him, as he is hopefully en route to being 1512 km away from me, but it just starts to matter less. All I know is I saw someone who looked like him, and that someone was headed in my direction, and then turned around and headed the other way.
Avoidance has always been one of his strong suits.
I feel sad about the situation. I feel sorry for him, that he gave up on a girl who would make him pasta for breakfast at 7 in the morning when he had an exam, who would warm the bed up before he climbed in at 5 in the morning after doing homework he'd procrastinated on all weekend. I feel cheated because I feel like I did all the work and someone else gets all the benefit. I feel that the level of hope he instilled in me that anything could happen, that we could ever be anything...I feel like that was cruelty of the highest caliber. It was wonderful and light and had waltzing in the kitchen. It was shiny. But it's past tense and everything after was cruel and unnecessary and so badly handled, it's just dark and twisted and thorny in my mind. He tried to fix what wasn't broken and broke it in the process.
It's starting to matter less. I'm falling out of love.
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