Miss me? Not really.

Miss me? Not really is the short answer. For the long answer read below.

I do but I don’t want to deal with all the things that follow in your wake. It’s a chore and like blizzards always intense. Why is it never sunny? It was a deadly winter and I need to survive.

Why so many lies or omissions of truth, in your words? Why promises that you won’t keep and had never intended to keep in the first place, made only for the sake of making yourself look good?

I catch myself thinking you would like Inspector Montalbano or tell you that I found peace in volunteering. I wanted to tell you my grandpa was dying. I wanted to ask you what the right thing to do was. But I could never get past how formal and cold we had become. And you had never shown any interest before in spite of knowing the circumstances. So I absolve myself from all guilt.

Was this only entertainment for you? What was it – the thrill of the chase? How cliched and, you know how I hate cliches. All of us become the things we hate.

It doesn’t matter now because I have seen through you. Perhaps there is a price you pay for being naive stupid. Believing you was my Achilles heel. The amazing thing is the disbelief because I am not usually the kind of person who gets caught up in this kind of drama. You proved me wrong yet again and my only consolation is for everything in life there is a first time (and hopefully a last time).

Why is there never a straight answer but only roundabout clues? It’s a maze I am tired of navigating and red herrings I am tired of dodging. You probably think people have a lot of time on their hands to brood over things. Let me correct you. They don’t. Survial takes precedence. Wading through your mess without complaining, I laugh to myself thinking about it now. Didn’t anyone tell you I don’t even like getting my feet wet and here I am drowning. I don’t even know how I got here. Oh wait you knew I disliked it yet continued to pour water saying it will quench my thirst.

What’s the use of saying pretty please, listen to me? What will I do with it, you selfish pig? Once someone tells you truth, instead of acknowledging it, you wave it aside and walk away only to come back to stomp on their hearts. I wish you would vanish into the unknown never to be seen. Wait, that’s not completely true. In the day of social media I check if you are alive by stalking you online like normal people. Not like you, making your presence known whenever you happen to drop by.

After a change of season or whatever you think is the reason, you are back again with your inane heys and whys thinking I still care. I do, but about my sanity. My mind knows a lost cause when it sees one but the heart isn’t so easily persusaded.

Now I see what you do to me. Seen for a while actually. Do you see what you do to me? No, you don’t else you would have been honest. Lord knows I have asked you many times. And honestly after all this time I don’t know why I put up with it and what I saw in you and, of course you, me because I know I am no picnic to be around. But let me tell you being led on is never fun. I don’t hate tears (a crybaby cannot hate tears) but I despise lies. Feeling like the other woman is not fun, believe it or not.

Maybe there was nothing to write home about and my heart just breaks easily being a delicate darling and all (I blame my lousy genes!). From a date which wasn’t to a love which wasn’t. I can live with irony because, you know, that’s life.

This connection I cannot explain even when we aren’t in touch – is it just past memories holding the threads to this tenuous whatevership (I still don’t know what it was) or is it just plain fantasy intruding into reality? I suspect it is the latter. It’s time to cut the cord and move on, I think to myself for the millionth time. Even if moving on is an illusion we get brownie points for trying, like with everything else in life. And that counts for something, doesn’t it?

So long you and your fawning admirers. I never would have belonged in your world or for that matter, you in mine. May you have a happy life together. You have my good wishes as long as you do not come under my radar. In short, living in parallel universes suits me just fine (to borrow a line from a hymn sung a lot in school – you in your small corner and I in mine). I would love it if it were separate planets but I am a realist you see. I take what I can get.

Miss me? Uh oh not really. Grow up will you (I know adulting is hard). Ta.

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