Gone

Gone, he be.

Gone, he went.

A brief romance. I know not what moral to take.

He seemed to love me. Even in rejection I didn't feel rejected. But I quickly went back to 70% me, my default vulnerability position.

BUT I AM REJECTED. Clam shell is closing until further notice.

I was very laissez-faire, I was cool. I didn't pressure him. But he's not ready. He's anxious.

Back to shit, for me. Did it not work out because deep down I was scared too?

Guess now I'll be even more scared next time.

'Next time' is not even occurring to me right now. I feel sick and confused. I don't know whether this has happened purely because of his own lack of readiness, or my 70% presence or it just not being meant to be.

But we had so many plans...

But we had so much fun...

Stop the clocks. Stop the world. I'm going to sleep for 100 years.

Weirdest thing is that I knew he was going to tell me this tonight.

Psychic services now offered. Competitive prices. No guarantees.

Fuck you world. Write whatever I'm meant to learn from this in the sky - i'm failing to see the point so far.


-- Posted from one of those iPhone things (with whom I have love-hate relationship).