Let's Talk About

Last night.
Even though I wish I didn't have to.

Shit.
That's mostly all I have to say.

The last blog I posted is something I shouldn't have said.
I didn't mean it.
At least, I don't think I mean it right now.

Gah.
Do I miss him?
Do I miss seeing him all the time? Being his best friend?
Do I miss sitting on his front porch, singing along to soft acoustic guitar.

No.
I'm not thinking about this.
I won't let myself.

It's been nearly a year and I'm over this.
I'm sure of it.
I'm just trying to comprehend when he got so tall.
When his feet got so big.
When his lost his baby face.
Dammit.
Fuckthisshit.

Well, last night was awesome.
Despite the awkwardness of feeling like I'm being watch.
Despite the feeling that I should have said something.

Oh well.
I danced until I could dance no more.
And now my legs hurt like hell and it hurts to move.
I had fun though, and that's what matters.

I met my replacement and she's a lot like I used to be, I guess. Tall, blonde, overweight, hanging around him like they're dating.
Congrats.
I hope she treats you better than I did.
I'm still sorry, by the way.

I should have said it.
When I was leaving.
Instead of skipping over him during hugs, I should have stopped in front of him and simply said it.
"I'm sorry."
I'm not strong enough, I suppose.
Two words.
Two syllables.
I'm such a wimp.


GAH!
WHAT AM I DOING?!?!?!
This is shit.
I'm not talking about this anymore.
Not at all.

I'm sure of these things:
-I'm sorry.
-I don't miss him.
-I had fun last night.

Things I hope:
-He's happy.

That is all.
I can't do this anymore.
Why'd you have to bring him?
Damn.

Goodbye.