It’s been over a month, seven weeks even, since we left things drunk on the side of the road in Shoreditch fighting – since we last spoke. It feels kinda weird that it has been so long without any actual contact. Good and bad weird. I’m used to having you as such a huge part of my life, I can’t imagine a life without you in it at all – the future we hold is so unclear. Can we do this friend thing?
It’s quickly become like you’re not really a part of my life anymore – which is a good thing because it makes it much easier to pretend you don’t exist, that we never existed. It makes it easier to
try to move on. It’s a bad thing though because you know me better than most people, you understand me, get me. We get along so well, the first night you were here proves that – so the situation still annoys me. Why didn’t you give us a chance? How did you switch your feelings off like a tap – when the faucet and the water source were worlds apart?
I get it though, don’t worry. I’m not sitting in London pining for you by any matter of means – it’s just frustrating at times. I guess this is a modern fairy tale; a story with no happy ending. There’s a million reasons why I should, and am, giving you up. The main one being that you gave up on me, on us. But the heart wants what it wants – sometimes I can’t help but get you out of my head, or wish that things were different.
It doesn’t help that you’re snapchatting me selfies (topless ones), telling me I look hot and tagging me in personal things on Facebook. It reminds me that you’re alive, that you exist, that we existed – which is quite the opposite of what I like to pretend is reality.
Anyway, I hope you’re having a good time travelling. Your stuff is safe and stowed under my bed for safe keeping till your return, when I guess I’m going to have to see you – which to be honest, I’m not looking forward to.
I miss you.”
distanced hearts club ♥