Being in limerence with a real-life someone is one of the worst hells on earth, I wouldn't wish it for absolutely anyone. I miss the person I was when I wasn't wholly consumed by a single being, but it wasn't my fault and it's one of those things you can't predict. But it's just so sick and gross and embarrassing and overwhelming and no one really talks about it like I think they should.
I wrote that in December and two months later I can go a whole day without even thinking of you. I roll my eyes when your face pops up as currently online. I'm not even sure what changed. I've never been in love. I've only experienced limerence. I know the difference.
Writing "you" makes it seem like I was a bigger presence in your life. I was not. But you were in mine, unconsciously and, quite frankly, nonconsensually.
You were sweet and looked at me.
One meeting and my heart transfers onto another you. How can I be so aware but so powerless.
Tonight I speak to a you of my past. We go our separate ways for months until I message out of the blue. I don't know why I do it and you are still nine years older than me and I feel like puking all over my new blankets and sheets.
You could hold the door open for me or stand near me on the train.
I can't go a minute without imagining how I might be seen by you.
I think you can watch me through my window.
No comments:
Post a Comment