(no subject)

[__rx]

dear ish:

here is where i'm at.

i would not call you a rebound.
i would not call you a fixer upper.

i didn't drive away last night
because i was irritated with traffic.
i went because you wanted me to.
pushing away all the anxiety
and boredom to be with you.

i drove away last night
because i spend more time waiting for you
than i do getting ready for each day
in the mornings.

i do not especially like to share my music with you
because most of it's personal.
i cannot imagine you appreciating
renovation as much as i'd like you to.

it must be the boredom
but it's mostly you
putting me in extreme moods.

talking with a martial artist tonight,
he asked what i wanted.
not phone calls one night saying
you're going to get drunk.
not phone calls the next saying
you're going to a party.

especially after numerous mentionings
that you prefer less intense outings.

i do not want to put myself in a position
where i'll need to wonderworry about
where you are that night, or who you're sweet talking.
not that i don't trust you with your body and self control,
it's just unbelieveably irritating and unlike me.

you don't need to be like this,
obviously, thank you, i know this.
getting out of the last relationship
i've realized people will be the way they are.
you are contradictory, a bullshitter
and too often seemingly uncautiously flirtatious.

who am i to take that away from you?
i've not the patience to put effort into trying anyway.

how nice it is to hear that i'm pretty.
it's confidence crippiling to hear
that everyone else is too.
never in the way i see people.

these days are my own,
i'd love you in them,
but i'm feeling like our romantic time
should probably be expiring
before i commit and drive us crazy
over how wonderful you wish
for everyone else to think you are.

love aa, sydney.