GAME OVER.
This will be the real last time I will write about my pseudo-love life.
Dear former classmate,
I already told you I like you. It was my last card. I'm out. I mean, could it get any crystal clearer? But dear, we've been fencing for months now, I'm kind of tired of playing the game and ignoring the white elephant in the room. You don't look like a dimwit and it's probably one of the many reasons why I liked you but dayum, you have passed calculus and statistics and all the stuff my nightmares are made of and yet you can't figure this out.
Then you'll tell me that you like me too after I've said it. That you've been wanting to tell it to me for the longest time and it's just that you don't have the guts to tell it before. I would just love to give you a jar of pickled intestines I'll steal from the Biology labs of the campus. I am not kidding.
I wish I could say I am happy about this since all that effort actually paid off. That I actually made a dent in your life, that I wouldn't be forgotten so easily in your consciousness. But the thing is, I'm too tired to care. Why should I bother making an effort when it's me who's been on the losing side all along. I really don't fucking get it why you would be so intimidated when I have done everything in my power (which is not a lot since I'm not really good at this game, obviously) to make you like me too.
Since no one reads my rants anyway, I'll say this. I just want to hold your hand while we're walking in the acad oval for one afternoon. THAT IS ALL. I won't ask you to shower me with all the love in the world because that's asking too much from a dense dimwit like you and I'm not really expecting you to do that anyway, seeing how gutless you are. But still, walking with someone that I like in one of my favorite places in the world while I bid adieu to an affair I've loved so well, is it really too much to ask? Apparently it is.
I just wished you'd have more confidence next time to express your feelings if there ever was. While silly me will continue to daydream about more impossible things.
This is the truest entry I've written in weeks. The rest are by-products of good ol' neuroticness and my friend, caffeine.
