Jun 06, 2008 20:47
"I don't want you to get hurt."
Well how do you like that, I got hurt. I am more hurt than if we'd had a brief fling, affair, relationship, whatever you want to call it, and then you'd had to leave. I think I would have been fine with that. I would have been fine with that. I probably would have gotten over you in those four weeks anyway. But now I've kissed you. And now I can't have any more, and somehow it's tearing me up. It's depressing. Because I have no reason to stop liking you, except that I got hurt, but that wasn't really your fault, was it? I don't think so. I like you, Mike Holm, I really do. And I will for a while, until you go away. On the twenty-fifth, when you'll be upstate, because it will be the day after prom. But I won't see you after Friday, so maybe then, maybe maybe after Friday I won't want you anymore. This isn't fair. This isn't goddamn fair! I KNOW you like me, you told me so. What's stopping you? I don't care about the time frame! I won't get hurt! I'm tough! Tough enough for you, anyway. Please. Please.
This would be totally pathetic if I actually said this to him. Good thing I'm not going to.