15 November 2012
[getting it off my chest] We were thirteen when I first met M. We were in English class, and I got put to sit next to him. I hadn't known him before, our friends weren't the same back then.
He told me of his love of writing, and climbing, and I told him about marine biology. Shortly, we became friends, and, as everyone is school merged (before we'd been split off into form groups), we shared friends.
14/15/16; did I like him, didn't I? What does it matter what I felt, when everyone "knew" that we liked each other. We went out, I was definitely too young. Some people are ready at that age, I wasn't, neither was he. I broke it off. We were friends. We argued. Never to speak again.
16/17: we grew close again. At a drunken house party we kissed. Slept together in the most innocent sense. I felt guilty because he annoyed me so much. I distanced myself, he got angry and broke it off. That summer, we got close again. Decided to just be friends. Made-out a lot. Visited each others houses. I wondered when we would finally have sex. When he would make the move. We stopped speaking, but we text.
Scandal: apparently I was "texting" someone else. He 'broke it off', whatever we had 'going on'. We hated each other. We had sex. We didn't speak. He whinged. I spoke to him...we stopped speaking. End of story.
This week I dreamt about him, can't get him off my mind. I just want to be friends with the boy I trust above all others almost.
He doesn't want to know.
Inane Ramblings • Opuss № I