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secrets

Left to my own devices when you’re gone, I will reread old text messages from you. I mean, I didn’t save them for this purpose… But if they’re automatically saved to my phone, well, best I make use of them. And chances are, I’ll smile just as widely as I did when you first sent them. And I’ll hear your voice in my head as I read them. And I’ll end up missing you more.

When I can’t stand to miss you any longer, I’ll go for a run. Once a day, I’ll run. At least 6 kilometres and at most 10 – because we both know my legs are quite short, and to run any further would make me pass out (read: die). So, I’ll run. And whilst I run, I’ll listen to music. There’ll be an assortment of songs playing in my ears, with words that may or may not remind me of you. And I may put our song on repeat, firstly because I like the song, and secondly because every time I listen to it, I hope somehow the words will pop into your mind and make the distance between us that little bit less.

I will say ‘yes’. The key to forgetting how much I miss you, will be to keep busy. So every invite extended my way by a friend or family member will be accepted. Perhaps a long lost friend whose face I haven’t seen in six years will want to catch up over coffee, or perhaps I just won’t be able to say ‘no’ to the 7th night out in a row with friends. Either way, I will say ‘yes’. And wherever these invites end up leading me, I’ll get there and for a second, wish you were with me. But only for a second because I’ll lose myself in the moments shared with the people I find. Until I get home. And crawl into bed. And find myself suspended in the moments between midnight and sunrise, lost beneath the hilly landscape of my duvet… And it is then that I will forget to forget how much I miss you. And I’ll fall asleep fooling myself into believing that the pillow around which my arms rest, will magically restore itself into you. Even if only for a second.

I’ll completely change my life around. I’ll resolve to be more organised, more prepared for things, and more dedicated to work. I’ll launch myself into a new fitness regime and give half my clothes to charity. I’ll move the furniture in my bedroom around, and repaint the walls. I’ll hang new pictures, and immerse myself into creating an entirely new world. And after all of this, I’ll still miss you. Because the letters you wrote me will remain at the bottom of my jewelry box. As much sense as it makes to throw them out, I won’t. And the photographs we took of ourselves that day will still live in the drawer of my bedside table, readily available should I wish to lose myself in them and the memories they represent. And as much as my life and surroundings may have changed, I’ll still be the same. And that means that I’ll still miss you when you’re gone.

I’ll tell everyone in my life how well I’m doing. I’ll be better off, and I’ll ensure everyone knows it, or at least, hears me say it. And there’ll be times when I believe it. Wonderful, flash-in-the-pan kind of moments where I can finally breathe without a memory of you haunting me. But these moments will fade as quickly as they arrived. And I’ll be back to square one. And if you ever decide that you miss me, too, that’s where you’ll find me… Right where you left me.

1. “I don’t like you like that.”

I’m sure we’ve all had the pleasure of this conversation. At least, I hope we have – as I cling to the belief that I’m not the only one eternally falling for the people who just couldn’t care less. And the worst part of the whole thing is how truly amazing the person you’re keen on makes you sound. Well, thank you for telling me how beautiful, smart and funny you think I am, and oh, did you just say that anyone would be lucky to have me? Well, gee, I wasn’t hoping for anyone. I was sort of hoping for you. And excuse me if I ignore every compliment you pay me because no, you aren’t making me feel any better. Rather, do me a favour, and unless you want me, have the decency to move to Bosnia, and out of my life.

2. “I just want to be friends… who have sex.”

Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but sex is meant to be good, and exciting, and full of the expression of feelings and thoughts for which we can’t find words. Oh… I’m wrong? Well, no one told me that. Not until after I’d willfully given myself over to you in excitement and anticipation of what the future could hold for us – an excitement that ended when you rolled over, high-fived me and then called me dude. Well, I guess that just makes you an asshole. And me angry. If you were a decent human being, you’d go and masturbate or hire a prostitute instead of attempting to turn me into your very own walking, talking, breathing and moving blow-up doll. And asking if we can still have sex without any emotions, just makes it worse. If you’re going to treat me like a whore, at least pay up afterwards so that I can finally afford those killer heels with which I plan to kick you in your manhood, before – sexily – strutting out of your life. For good.

3. “Let’s just keep this between us.”

Well, as if things weren’t bad enough, you’ve now sworn me to secrecy. I am officially your dirty little secret. And, whilst this may come as a surprise, that does absolutely nothing for my self esteem. Due to a lifetime of abusive relationships with abusive men, my first reaction is to wonder why I’m not good enough to be proudly paraded around the room? I mean, I’m sure I’m not entirely unattractive. And some have even gone so far to once or twice inform me that I’m a catch. Well, where’d you miss this fact? Did you not get the memo? No worries. Allow me to inform you on all that you’ve missed. You are a jerk. I deserve better. But I’ll still pine after you in silence, hoping one day that you’ll feel the same way that I do, and want to shout it out from the rooftops! Oh and yes, I’m a hopeless romantic whose heart you will break. But don’t worry. It can be our little secret.