while having one of the wee-hours-of-the-morning laying in bed chats with E that I’ve missed greatly since we were roommates sophomore year, that I have changed my mind. [M, another former roommate, will tell you this is not uncommon in the least.] Even more accurate a statement, I suppose, is that I have recovered the good sense my damned-fool-blinded-by-love-and-hurt self had obviously lost. I am thinking clearly again now, though, and I don’t want to be friends. What’s more serious, I don’t even want to want to be friends. Maybe he doesn’t either, and those things we both said were just the things you say…we mentioned this at length in multiple communications, but I have no understanding of when he is being sincere.
And I’m not even mad at that. All I know is that I felt like my world was falling apart because there wasn’t a single section of my life that he hadn’t affected. I couldn’t wrap my head around losing him completely. He said he couldn’t either, but actions speak louder than words [Yeah actually I can’t stand by that oft-true cliche in the context of this situation…] inaction speaks louder than… I have already lost him. And yeah, I was a hot-ass-mess about that for a while, I’m not even gonna front, but…I’m not even trippin off that anymore, because something more important happened between then and now: he lost me. He has lost whatever hold he used to have over me, whatever it was that said I needed him in my life. He has lost my affection. He has lost my desire. He has lost my remorse. To an extent, he has even lost my interest.
I never stopped following his blog, so I know how his summer is going and all that jazz, but I noticed a while ago that I don’t get excited when he posts something now. I read it, sure, but I’ve stopped wondering how he’s doing. Today I kind of even skimmed it, more excited to move onto the other unread items in my blogroll. I’ve spent a lot of time in the past month and a half wracking my brain, trying to find a way to imagine being at the club together without it being so awkward I just want to leave. I was basically unsuccessful, but I’ve realized that at least some of the awkwardness is coming from trying to find a way to be friendly. I don’t want to be all antagonistic or some shit, but I don’t want to make small talk with him over lunch either. There are lots of people I have no meaningful interactions with in my club…I just wanna add him to that pile. Feigning a desire to interact that I just don’t HAVE is the awkward part. Reservedness and polite interest I think I can handle. And anyway, they say fake it til you make it, right? Game plan accomplished.
“Loving someone that doesn’t love you is the most impossibly pointless endeavor anyone can ever find themselves sucked into and usually, when you finally pull yourself away you realize that you learned nothing, gained nothing, and lost – for a time – everything.” —SingleBlackMale