I'd Like to Say I'm Over It...But

...I'm not.

I wish I were already.  I wish I could just say "screw it and screw you" and I suppose I could say those things.  But I wouldn't really mean them and I'd still cry myself to sleep, wake up with eyes that look like I'd been on a drinking binge for three days and then mope around secretly missing you for God knows how long while no one really knows because on the outside I'd still be happy-go-lucky me. Faking it, for a few reasons.

One: for whatever mysterious reason, I don't want to hear everyone badmouthing you. That wouldn't make me feel better. Two: I really just don't want to talk about it, I prefer to cry privately when something reminds me how much I miss you already. And three: the phrase "fake it till you make it" comes to mind. I think to a degree, you taught me that. I'm just going to pretend I'm fine, that I don't have feelings.  Eventually, maybe I'll begin to believe myself.

Besides, it would be nothing more than a sad attempt at a defense mechanism. See what you've done?

I started out so logical too.  When I met you, my mind was totally in charge.  And then you kissed me (which I absolutely loved, btw).  And you "courted" me.  And you opened up to me and made me feel like it was safe to open up to you.  And then...BAM!  The door slammed.  And suddenly I was at war...with myself.

Mind vs. Heart.

I can't help wondering how long this fight will go on.  I hate that my heart is winning the battle.  Damn emotions.  Damn you (not really).  How did you manage to do this?

Every once in a while a little something seeps through and gives me enough hope to hold on to.  Enough to want to see if maybe you're capable of opening up to me and giving me some semblance of insight into why.  But I don't know how long I'm going to keep believing in hope.  It's a wishy washy little bastard.  I've said it before, likely will again...I loved having you in my life.  I'm not over that.  If I had to bet on it, I'd say I'll never be over that.  After all that has happened, what I miss the most is our friendship. My friend. The one I laughed with.  The man who I wanted to share things with.  I don't regret the times we enjoyed together.  Not one.  Regardless of all else that happens, has happened...I can't imagine not having enjoyed having you in my life.  And yes, I miss you...or at least the you I knew.  Terribly.  I think that part was real.

You actually are an amazing man...with one exception.  You can't be honest...not even with yourself.  You just can't seem to open yourself up enough to truly, wholeheartedly let someone show you what real love can do. And that's sad, because you are lovable.  I loved you. Love you. Present tense.  I'd like to say I'm over that too...But I'm not.