Sunday, May 5, 2013
You only told me your first name. You never asked me mine.
I kept hanging around outside your door, even after you locked it and told me to go away. I know it was ridiculous but at some point, I became invested and from there I just had to ride the thing out.
I really can't count you since the only attention you ever paid me was to make fun of me with your friends. But, fuck the rules. You're in.
My sense of loyalty is sometimes misguided. Even worse, I have this thing about not flinching while enduring pain. That explains those years.
When you warned me that you were a monster and at the next full moon you'd kill me, I thought you were speaking metaphorically. Lesson learned.
You asked me to dance. I lived off that for weeks. Until the next time I saw you. With her.
I was having such a hard time coming up with the right words. I filled up a notebook with all the wrong ones and mailed it to you. I got my arm stuck in the mailbox at the post office trying to retrieve it. The police were called and later, the fire department. A photographer from the local newspaper showed up. I had to appear in court and pay a fine for tampering with U.S. mail. The photographer showed up there too. I never heard from you again.