From the moment I saw you first, you caught my eye. I’m not going to say I immediately knew you were the one or anything. I’m not that corny. Also, that does not happen.
And it’s not even that I was interested in you in that way. I just registered that you were attractive, and I, for sure, wanted to get to know you better.
You were wearing a red tracksuit —bold move— and the color worked perfectly with your black hair and skin, still bearing the remnants of tan even though the summer was long gone.
‘He can pull it off, though,’ I thought to myself. ‘And a talker for sure. Probably full of himself.’
That was my first impression of you.
Weeks later, you shared your first impression of me too. You thought that I looked like a good girl until I started talking. And it was that contradiction that captivated and intrigued you so much, that it made you want to see desperately what else I got.
You were right. I’m not a good girl. Or person, for that matter. But I’m good to people I care about. Like you. And I could be good for you. If you were willing to try a little bit harder.
You also told me that I was exactly your type — skin, hair, eyes, figure, everything.
‘I’m flattered,’ I said. ‘But you aren’t exactly mine.’
That did not seem to upset you in the slightest.
I wasn’t lying. You are not someone I’d normally go for. But you’re handsome, smooth, and you’ve got that irresistible charm, no one would argue with that. So I started flirting back a little bit.
‘I’ll just have fun,’ I thought.
And that’s exactly how all of my most intense and destructive relationships always started. With having fun. I should have known better, really.
It was all talking at first with just a bit of flirting. We connected immediately — same movies, same songs, same childhood traumas. It was insane. The moment I’d think something, you’d say it. Everything you were thinking — I knew precisely what you needed to hear before the words came out of your mouth.
‘It’s like I’m in your head,’ you’d often say.
‘It’s crazy,’ I’d agree.
But you still kept me wondering. I’ve never met anyone who walks the line between friendly and flirty so perfectly. You said just enough to get me hooked and want more and yet, never gave me enough to know for sure.
‘Years or practice,’ you’d tell me later when everything was out in the open.
No matter how this ends, I applaud your skills. You kept me on my toes for weeks, telling me we’re friends and dropping hints all over. Exciting times these were. I’d forgotten how refreshing that feels when you have a connection like that, feel wanted and attractive. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it and how good I was at it.
But I swear, I never even thought it could be something more. These connections, I don’t form them often. So I was just happy to have someone to confide in. Someone who just gets me. A safe haven with a little bit of a tease to keep it interesting.
The chemistry was undeniable, though, and I guess there was no point in fighting it. Even though the circumstances weren’t exactly right, we were meant to become more than friends.
We got tipsy one day, and I caught you looking at me a certain way. It was just a look, but that was then that you finally crossed the line. And it was the moment when I knew you weren’t just friendly all this time. Because friends certainly don’t look at friends like that.
Later we were talking, and you casually touched my hand like you do, flirting again. But this time you lingered.
‘That’s dangerous,’ I smiled.
‘I know,’ you said and came closer.
And the moment I leaned in, I knew that was it for me.
I tried to fight it at first, I did.
′Just a matter of time,′ you said in that perfectly confident manner of yours.
I did not even argue.
And you were right. I never stood a chance.
And now I’m in too deep, but you are not on the same page. My bad, I guess. Maybe I’ll never learn. We’ll see what happens after we’re done, and I’m a complete wreck. And it will happen, I know that already. That, too, is just a matter of time.
We’ve always been honest with each, to the point when it’s simply cruel. You tell me how much you like me, but find excuses why we won’t be good together. You say all the right things and then disappear for days, even weeks. You look at me like I’m the one and then tell me about someone else you met.
‘I never promised you anything,’ you say.
And you’re right. You didn’t. And I act like I’m fine.
′ Neither have I’ I tell you ‘You’re just a distraction’.
Only I’m sort of lying. You are a distraction, but I want you to be more than that. I’m just hoping that if I just stick it out a bit longer, you’ll see me, you’ll want me, you’ll—maybe someday—even love me?
I know this sounds pathetic and stupid, but why don’t you want me? We have a real connection; the chemistry is insane; we cannot keep our hands off each other; talk for hours; our children could fucking win beauty contests. What more do you want?
I post photos and stories like crazy to show off my new outfit because I’ll know you’ll slide into my DMs to say how great I look.
I try to find excuses to see you just so we can talk a bit.
Every day I’m at your mercy waiting for you. And when you’re the first one to text, I’m the happiest and, possibly, the stupidest girl in the world.
I’m not an idiot, I swear. But the way I feel about you is beyond my understanding. You just get me, we finish each other’s sentences, and I want you like crazy. We could do it for a week non-stop, and I don’t think that’ll be enough.
And I’m clearly insane because this is going against everything I believe. But at least I have you. Not all of you and not all the time, but I do.
I hate you a little too. For screwing up my life when it just got good. You made me want to give up everything I have just because there is a slight chance that you might be part of my future.
You say I’m too much to handle, but the right way to say it is I’m too much to handle for you. You just want things to be easy, and the moment it gets a little difficult, you get scared. And I swallow my pride and let you walk all over me just to stay with you a bit longer although it’s eating me up inside every minute. And yet even in these moments of clarity, I’m still willing to put everything on the line to see if we could be something more.
Will it work? I don’t know. But as long as seeing your name on my phone screen gives me goosebumps and makes me smile all day long, I’m willing to take the risk.
Will I ever be able to fix you? Call me stupid, but I hope I can. And I’ll fix myself too. Everything that you think is wrong with me. I’ll be anything you want me to be. Just stay.
Maybe the time comes, and you’ll see. But right now, I’m stuck in a limbo where I do not decide anything. It’s all on you. And I’m just along for the ride, doing my best. But the high is so worth the pain, so you can torture me some more. As long as you’re there. And I’ll do my best to make you see that we’re worth more than that.