Yesterday's Words

Stop asking because I'll never tell you. Maybe you should do your research and find this blog and work it out for yourself you stupid bitch. I have to keep it this way, distant, removed, or I'll never get over this minor blip on my radar. It'll evolve into a huge fatal plane crash and as much as I'm ready to give up I don't want that. So please just stop asking. Stop thinking about me, I don't matter. Just forget that I ever existed and forget that we ever tried to be friends. I can't be your friend and I know that. So stop trying; it won't work. I'm on edge. Nervous. How will I react when you walk in? I'm planning on not looking. Never making eye contact. And not speaking. And definitely no hugs because I can't work that way anymore. I wonder when somebody will ask me: Why are you always writing in that stupid notebook? Why can't you just use words out loud like everybody else? But I'm gripping it tightly in case anyone tries to snatch it from my hands. It's a good distraction, it's a good excuse not to look up when you arrive. This way I can remain in my own little words and hope you don't appear and wake me up from my dream where I block everything out. NMF is going well. Ship shape. Please just stop texting. All of you. How long will it take you to figure out that I've stopped caring. Stopped dreaming of the impossible. It's easier this way. And I still can't believe that I let myself think those things in the first place. I want to be back at square one. No friends, no awkward connections, nothing. Take me back to the start. I want to go back to before I met you. Simpler times - yes please.