bittersweetromantic replied to your post: One week ago today..

I shall mail you his testicles.

Hahaha, I love you.

I spent the night with the boy, doing things that my idea of a couple would do. We shared, we compromised, we laughed, we cuddled, we kissed. And then we had the best sex we’ve ever had.

Then, we slept and everything was different. We separated, we shoved, we grunted, we ignored, we turned away. And then we had the most awkward morning we’ve ever had.

You must’ve sensed that something was wrong because you had the sense to text me. Then again, I made it rather obvious that I was annoyed with you. “Hey con con you feeling ok?” you asked. Unsure if I wanted to render myself vulnerable to the likes of you when I was still freshly seething with anger and confusion, I didn’t answer. Six hours passed and I finally responded. “I’m just confused because I feel like you act like two different people when we hang out and in the morning. And it’s been like this every time,” I admitted. You tried to rebut with this excuse that you’re not a morning person, and I tried to call ‘bullshit,’ but then you threw in “I don’t want you to think I don’t care about you.” Wait, what?

I didn’t want to read too much into it. I told myself I’d try to keep emotions out the second time around. But you have no idea how much I wanted to believe you. To believe that you actually gave a shit. To believe that maybe you actually thought about me. To believe that maybe you actually gave us a shot in your head. What I fool I would be to believe it… But, I did. Of course.

On Thursday and Saturday night, after things had returned to as normal as they could be with us, I was foolish to believe that you would come be with me if I asked you to. I was both innocent and then crass with my words on each respective night, and yet both times, you denied me. Now, one week later, I’m embarrassed. I am embarrassed to have fallen for your tricks again. I am embarrassed that I have subjected myself to this bullshit once again. I am embarrassed that you seem to hold all the power in this relationship.

All I wanted was an invite to your formals… For some reason, that was all I needed to cement the fact that maybe you do care about me as much as you claim. But I am foolish to believe any of this. To believe that you actually give a shit. To believe that maybe you actually think about me. To believe that maybe you would actually give us a shot. What I fool I would be to believe it… But, I’m sure I will again. Of course.