It’s Not Like I Think About You Constantly . . .

Heh.

Sure it isn’t.

But see, I lied.  Of course I think about you constantly.  If I let myself, I’d dream about you every night and fantasize about you every day.  Cuz, surprise, surprise, I’m still in love with you.  Despite knowing what you are.  Despite knowing what you’ve done and still can do to me.  Despite knowing that I’ll probably never be able to talk to you, see you, hold you, hug you, kiss you, feel you hold me, kiss me, hug me, again.

It kills me.  It kills me that you told Melanie you’d be the first person at my side if I really needed you.  Because you know what?  I really needed you whe Nana died.  You were the only person besides Dolly who could’ve really understood, because you were THERE.  You were there when she was still somewhat at her best.  Before she started going into the hospital so much.  Before she got weaker, before  . . . she died.  She loved you like family, damnit!!  And you couldn’t even note me to say you were sorry I’d lost her!

Are you happier without me?  Are you???  I want to know . . .  I want to know if you’re happier without me in your life.  Do you actually like these other girls you’re dating?  Do they mean more to you than me?  Have you let them into your head?  Are they as inquisitive?  Would they drive, through rain and tears, to come and see you?  Would they argue with you in the rain?  Would they give you a key to their heart?

Even though I have the key, I can’t lock the door.

I just can’t . . . lock the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Speaking of people who can tear my heart in two . . .

I wkeup around eleven today, because of my mom ordering things to be cleaned up.  But even that didn’t erase the memory of the dream I’d had out of my mind.

Denise, someone Mike knew and introduced me to in high school, (actually, I had met her before then, but we didn’t figure that out for a few months . . .) and I were hanging out in what appeared to be my Nana’s living room.  But then the setting changed and I was outside in a field, where a father was throwing a ball to his son and trying to teach him how to catch.  (The kid was only about three or four.  Hmm . . .  Perhaps mental image of Zeb and Bobby?  Who knows . . .)

Anyway, the father threw the ball up in the air and as it landed, it bounced.  It bounced out into the street and I stopped the kid from walking out just as a car drove past and swerved as if it were avoiding us.  Then the car stopped, right after swerving, a few feet away from us and the curb and who gets out?  Mike Keller.  He started getting really angry until he saw the kid and then he seemed to calm down and understand what had happened.  But not before I got pissed at his attitude, nudged the kid back to his dad and was about to tell him off.  For some reason, I was walking past him and as I did, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him.  He actually hugged me and then, before I could push him away or anything, he whispered, "I’m sorry," into my ear.  Then we just looked in one another’s eyes and I knew what he was sorry for.  He was referring to when he’d hurt my feelings the last time I was over at his house.

I just smiled and said it was all right.  Then, I don’t remember too much else except that I know we did kiss before the dream was over and we remained in one another’s arms till I woke up.

::Sighs::  Dreams like this are excatly what I DON’T need.  I don’t want to be thinking about people who’ve shown that they couldn’t care less about me.  Or if they do care, won’t step forward and prove me wrong in thinking they don’t.

Yeah, I want romance, love, a relationship, everything like that.  But you know what?  I know I’m not gonna have it.  I know I’m doomed to remain single, at least for the foreseeable future.  I don’ even bother to fantasize anymore becauseevery time I’ve done so, one of two faces has appeared on the guy I’ve imagined talking to.  Jason’s or Mike Keller’s.  And I don’t need that.  Mike Keller showed he doesn’t give a flying f*ck about me and Jason, through his own inaction, is proving that as well, as much as it kills me to say that.

Yet I’m dumb enough to want them in my life.  (Beatles song!)  I’m dumb enough to want arelationship with one of them, because I think that it’s possible that one of them could complete me.  Because that’s what I want.  Who I want,I should say.  I want my soulmate.  I want the one I breathe in time with.  I want the one who’s steps match mine.  I want the one who’s heart beats for me.  I want the one I can give the key to my heart to who will treat it, and my heart, as they would fine china or other precious possession.  Because no one in their right mind would break fine china.

I’m almost tired of fighting.  I’m tired of just existing.  I want to be somebody.  I want to be somebody’s someone.

::Sighs::  You know, after so many disappointments in love and crushes and all that, I’m surprised I can still want anything where that’s concerned.  I half expect my heart to just shrivel up.

Sometimes I wish it would.  No heart, no love, no wishing, no problems.

Right?