So I need to write this because it can’t be said to his face.
I don’t want to miss you. I don’t want to miss the fact that you wash your hands so many times that anyone would think you’d touched something radioactive. I don’t want to miss the fact that you brush your fringe out of your eyes using your little finger unlike everybody else who uses their fucking whole hand. I mean, what the hell is that?! Is that your posh way of doing it? I even miss the fact that for some ridiculous reason you think you’re working class. Okay so you might technically be but you actually have a fucking upper class attitude and you don’t seem to know it. You’re snobby and you don’t realise it. And so effen OCD. Everything has to be your way. Like what the hell was with telling Jonno what to do on the drive home from Brid and what the fuck was with ordering Sarah to get that particular table in McDonalds? And trying to make sure I cooked the pizza properly. I mean, come the hell on. Who the fuck can’t cook pizza properly? Well.. Gemma Ellis but that’s not the point.
I miss kissing you in the kitchen when Jonno and Nat are in the other room. I miss catching you looking at me in disbelief when I’ve said or done something insane. I miss the feel of your stupid arms on a night and the way you fit against me. I miss the fact that you’re quite broad shouldered. I even fucking miss that stupid curl of your lip. Why the hell do I miss that? What’s wrong with me? You’re an asshole. I mean, really, you are. You had no effen reason to break up with me. You’re just a scared fucking prick! You’re a coward. You’re a goddamn coward..
And I liked you from the start. Okay so I didn’t notice you until it was too late, but what did it matter? I would never have said anything to you even if my friend hadn’t liked you at the time. And then afterwards I was still never gonna say anything to you. And there was Charlie’s party and I hoped that that meant a little something to you, but at the same time I pretty much ruled it out as you being drunk. Turns out you actually liked me more then friends even though you were drunk. Shame you were such an asshole and avoided me that time. I mean, why cross the road? You think I wouldn’t notice? You know, I pretend that I’m ignorant or deaf most of the time but I’m fucking not. I saw you coming. Wondered what you might do so I put my head down and watched you from beneath my lashes. And you crossed the road and a little piece of me hurt and figured that you obviously thought that when you were drunk you’d made a huge mistake. ‘Cause I mean, who liked me anyway right?
And yeah, I know people like me. I know there are guys out there who find me attractive etc, but they’re never the ones I want. I’m never good enough for the guys I like. Never have been. And I’d gotten to the stage where I pretty much didn’t care any more until James and then you. I’d reached the stage where I didn’t care any more when New Years Eve happened.
And I really liked you and I really wanted something to happen.. and it did. And the only thing you can really say about our whole relationship is that it made you more confident sexually. Well, you know, that’s great. Makes me feel like I really fulfilled your needs. And I really couldn’t give a shit if this sounds bitter. You’ll never read it. I know you won’t. Yet again I managed to pick the same kind of asshole who hides himself in his own little pit. And that is exactly why I likened you to James in the park that day. And I know that got to you because as much as you had the same arrogant front up that he would put up, I heard the inflexion in your voice when you said thanks. And why on earth ignore Jonno? What the fuck did Jonno do that was so wrong? He’s your fucking friend. He deserves a little more than what you’ve done.
I hate this. I really hate this. I hate missing you and I hate accidentally thinking about you. I hate the way I’ll think of something I want to tell you then catch myself and tell myself I can’t because you’re a fucking ass.
You’ve contradicted yourself on everything you’ve ever said to me. And I still don’t believe that you could fake the look in your eyes that time. And I miss that. And I miss the way you’d watch me like you couldn’t get enough. I don’t think you even knew you were doing that. I miss the way that we’d spend most of the time texting. I miss the back massages as well. They were kinda nice. Heh.
Part of me wishes I hadn’t gone out that night. Part of me wishes I’d just stayed home, but then I’m glad I went out. It was kind of fun even though I spent most of it wishing you weren’t such a moody fucker and were out with us. It was you that I wanted to be dancing with. Not Sonny. Not anybody else. Why do you think I kept texting etc? I missed you. I wanted you there. With me.
I didn’t lie when I said I love you. We both know I’m pretty shit at lying. I didn’t lie. I don’t know how to fake something like that. And I fail to see how there was no spark when you considered moving in with me went so far as to say about a honeymoon in Hawaii. Somehow, I don’t think you’re that cruel to not mean something like that. I think you’re a fuck up, but you’re not cruel. And for some reason I’m still hoping you’ll turn up at my door even though I keep telling myself that you won’t. Because you wouldn’t go back on something like that, would you? Even if you wanted to? You’d keep with your stupid course.
And as for saying that I wasn’t excited about some things… why didn’t you just ask why I wasn’t? ‘Cause maybe I had reasons.