i don't think i'm ever going to understand you at all. i mean, i don't think i'm ever going to understand the effect you have on me. you didn't even start out as this amazing person; you were just the quiet boy who didn't really talk to me, which was fine. i'm not like my pretty cousin, who befriends everyone and keeps on good terms with every person within a five mile radius. i make enemies. i make presumptions, and i keep them until you prove me otherwise. i say things irrationally, illogically, and without much thought, and more often than not i regret them afterwards. i'm just that kind of person, so who cared if you didn't talk to me? who cared if you acted like you didn't like me at first? who cared?

so it's been a couple of months since we've last talked, and i don't know how i feel about that. i've got my summer school and my stories to occupy my time, and if i ever get tired of that, i could always go over to a friend's house, get wasted, and do stupid things for stupid stories in the future. i've got plans, family trips, and a life to live. i haven't cried about you in three months, and i love it. i love that it doesn't feel like someone kicked me in the heart. i love that i can throw myself mercilessly into whatever i'm doing and have a hell of a time doing it.

but it isn't easy like that, because then life would be too easy, and i wouldn't be writing this to you. just because i haven't cried doesn't mean that i haven't thought about you. on the contrary, you've been in my mind everyday, and as creepy and stalker-y as it sounds, it's true. i don't call you or talk to you on facebook because you seem to like your space, and i don't want to invade it. plus, i'm a chickenshit. but i still do think about you. i wonder how you're doing, if you've done well in school, if you've found a new girl to like, if i even cross your mind...

i like to wonder these things because our closure was so bad. that's what my pretty cousin said. she knows everything not because she's experienced, but because she just does. i like having someone be certain for me because it means i can go on with my life with some semblance. she says there's always a possibility of a summer thing, but i don't want to go there. i would just be building up false expectations, and i don't want that. even now, i'm still clinging onto something, though i don't know exactly what. maybe we should see each other so i could completely obliterate this stupid hope and get back to my sheltered life.

i go through the wildest emotions about you. one day i wake up, and i think about how much of a jackass you are. i hate you, you're a fucker, you stomped on me like a rug, and i hope someone lops your balls off. there isn't much coherence to these thoughts, but they're there, and their only purpose is to fuel my adrenaline until all i see is red. the anger usually seeps out into whatever i'm doing, and if you were here, you could tell by the way my handwriting suddenly gets a little darker, by the way i'm stabbing my ps2 controller a little too hard, or by the way i'm glaring at my dinner plate. everything is melted by my burning stare, and i imagine punching you in the face or in the jugular vein because i'm just. that. furious.

then there are the days when i feel hopeless. your face pops into my head, and i get a kick in my stomach. whenever i see your picture unexpectedly, my heart yells obscenely at me. i always click on your facebook just to see how you're doing, but that just exacerbates things, and i feel like i can't breathe. how stupid is it that i can't even bring myself to look at your profile picture? i get so annoyed whenever i see these girls talking to you on your wall, and then i get pissed off at myself. we're not even together, so what right do i have feeling like this? usually by now i'm imagining keying or throwing a rock at your car just so i can stop these feelings. anger is something i'm familiar with, not jealousy or lingering remnants of attractions.

the worst days are the ones where i think i don't like you anymore, and that i've moved on. it's the most bitter battle i've gone through. am going through. it's like a sine graph, oscillating indefinitely and infinitely. sometimes i think it's perfect. i can go back to liking any guy i want, and i can go back to imagining the right boy wooing and giving me flowers and sending me out on secret late night dates, stuff i never did when i was in high school because i was a big-time nerd and spent all my time studying. this goes for about five seconds, and then your face comes up in my mind, destroying all these once highly anticipated fantasies.

more often than not, i hit the valleys more than the peaks. it's like i don't want to get over you. i don't know why. my pretty cousin said you weren't that good-looking, and that i looked way out of your league. nice, comforting words, but it did nothing to abate. i wonder if we would've worked out; i don't have delusional fantasies about being married to my first boyfriend, but i would like to think we would have gone solid for a good while. i guess i'll never know.

so... here i am. sitting here and writing this out on an open notepad. you'll never read it, and i'm fine with that. you didn't deserve to see me cry when you broke up with me, so you don't deserve to see this either. you go and have fun with your life. you go and party it up like it's 1999. you go and talk with all the girls in the world if that's what makes you happy. you go and do whatever the fuck you want because it shouldn't matter to me; it shouldn't affect me; it shouldn't make me want to cry; it shouldn't make me want to hug you; it shouldn't make me want to kiss you; it shouldn't make me miss you; it shouldn't give me hope; it shouldn't make me want to drive over to your house; it shouldn't make me think of you; it shouldn't make me do anything.

but it does.