Here Again, Gone Again

Letter 7 : Your ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush.

Dear “ex-crush”,

On again, off again. Like the sun then the rain. Love again, lost again with the doubt and the pain. Too again, from again, all that once was. Here again, gone again, all that is lost.

Ex again , off again, never too sure. On again, off again, inducing love more. Here again, gone again, love like a song. Short again, long again, whichever be wrong.

All again, none again, with all of my heart. Here again, gone again, my love to depart. Near again, far again, distance between. All that was dear has been tossed in the sea.

I hate the way I can’t stop “like-liking’ you. Again and again.

I Still Wonder

It’s been five years and I still wonder what you’re doing now.

Why? I know you’re an idiot. I know you’re a jerk. I don’t even want to know how much worse your life has gotten by now. I know you’re a fool. I know you’ll only break my heart. I know you are the last person in the world I want to see right now.

But something deep inside me wants to see you. Wants to know you. To see your smile. To hear your voice. To feel your hand in mine again. To have you proclaim in front of everyone how beautiful you think I am. To hear you whisper in my ear that we’d be friends forever. A promise that you broke. A promise that broke my heart.

Who are you? I don’t even know. I wished I didn’t know the ins and outs of your childhood and I wish I could forget how to spell your last name. But I can’t. Will I ever forget?

Is it possible to ever forget you? I was eleven when I met you. Surely this was a school girl crush. But I honestly believe you broke my heart all those years ago and I fall to pieces if I run into you in the street, at the beach or at the bowling alley…

I hate the way I recoil to the safety of the girl’s bathroom for a quick cry and I hate the way I redo my hair a million times because somehow I still want you to love me.

Facebook is too darn easy and I wish I couldn’t type in your name and see your photo. See your smile. I wish I didn’t see your interests and your music and remember how much we had in common and that you had an incredible taste of music. I wish I could forget how we’d sing together, smile, laugh and dance. Innocence was bliss. Until you hurt me and then I learned the truth.

I wish with all my heart I could forget you. I wish I didn’t have these regrets engraved so deep. One day I’ll find the courage. One day when I’m as strong and confident as I used to be when I met you. That’s what you really liked about me wasn’t it? My ego. It was just like yours. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I hate you immensely but I love you at the same time.

Why you? Why does it have to be you? I don’t even know you anymore. Boy did you mess with my heart. Why am I still feeling this at seventeen? Gosh I still wonder.

Oh No, We’re Up To The Giggling Stage!

Ok ok… don’t read me the wrong way. Sure my friends and I spent the whole morning watching him and giggling but I do not like this new teacher. Just thought I’d put that out there. But I was thinking, as I generally do when I have assignments due and I want to procrastinate, yeah I was thinking about this:

Why the heck do girls want an attractive teacher!? Like in those movies they have these school girl crushes and they go up to the man all giggly and ridiculous looking. Yeah so school is pretty bland and I know I’ve never liked a guy from school but how distracting. I can see this problem arising:

“My schedule only allows for one hour in the morning. Oh, that’s just enough time to do my hair because I have Modern History (or whatever subjects this guy teaches) and it needs to look good. Oh but I’ve got to hand in that Modern Assignment on the Vietnam War. Oh… Flip, will he end up reading it? Oh my gosh? What the heck am I going to do!?    I could:    a) do my best on my Modern Report in an attempt to show off my skills or I can     b) Do a less than perfect job, who cares if  I seems like a ditz I look good and that’s what counts….”

I’m worried about now I might be the type who would choose ‘b’… but I’m also thinking I’ve got no hope at either. And I’m also-also thinking that it doesn’t really matter. And seriously who could be bothered? I think the only reason I do any good at school is because I’m not distracted. Who could be bothered to do their make up and hair every day!?

 I’m only in it for the novelty of it ;) Honest