I wish he never sent me that message,
because ever since, I've been nothing but stressed out about it.
Ever since he sent me that friendly message,
I have to keep telling myself that this doesn't change anything.
It doesn't mean he's changed his mind about me and
I can't let myself get my hopes up again,
Because I'm only going to end up getting hurt by his rejections
Again.
Ever since he sent me that message,
I have to deal with everyone in my family
Trying to convince me it means he changed his mind
That he's now just as much in love with me
As I am with him.
That he's forgotten all about the girl he turned me down for.
They're trying to give me false hope,
And it's sort of almost working.
Ever since he sent me that message,
I've been so stressed I'm tearing my hair out
(Quite literally, in fact. It's called trichotillomania,
and my eyebrows are starting to turn to bald patches again),
And drowning my sorrows
In the screams of Kathleen Hanna
and the gentle ballad that is Janis Ian's "At Seventeen"
And telling myself that it's just not going to happen.
And that I may as well forget about it all.
Because he's never going to change his mind.
And that's that.
But I can't.
Some sick, bizarre optimism in me
decided that I'm not going to forget about it.
That I'm going to keep reading and re-reading our conversation
And imagine him changing his mind
and us being happily-ever-after.
And now, all I want
Is for him to send me another message.
FreakingPip*