catharsis

so this is dumb to rehash, but you know, whatever.

i'm sorry, but i remember the first meal i ever cooked for you. and the last. and, actually all those in between. painstakingly deveining the shrimp, pan frying the eggs. hehe, the first time i made curry for you, i fucked it up (you took it in stride). i hate cooking for myself these days. it's not bad, i just don't put as much thought or love into it. oh well. one day i'll cook for someone again and i suppose the cycle will repeat. i just miss you, probably. you always wished i'd be more vocal about wanting you to stay over, instead of "sure, you can if you want." but expressed that in every lunch i packed for you.

i have a hard time getting over a lot of guys, for different reasons. with you, no matter how obnoxious you'd get, or all your freaking issues, it's because i would marvel at the fact that we were together.

the first time i met you, i was immediately infatuated for weeks. you were in my chemistry class during 2nd year, and for some reason i thought you were the cutest boy i'd ever seen. no idea who you were. (dark blue shirt, by the way. 7 rows down. you don't remember. i know that's kind of creepy but i'm not lying when i say i remember everything.) all i did was sit sort of close to the front and hope that you'd at least notice me a little. i remember being introduced to you a short while later, and it was the first and last time i'd talk to you for a few years.

when i ran into you again, i was completely drunk from pregaming and you were sitting with thomas across from us at rocky mountain. and i was interested in james, the dude sitting next to me i'd also just met (he was wearing a blue xkcd sweater. you were wearing a black tie.) and i didn't like you then; 6 more months would pass before i'd even start feeling the seeds of any sort of feeling.

but i remembered you.

and ours is not some epic notebook love story or some asian drama bullshit like that. maybe this sort of thing is actually incredibly common. but when we were together, i'd think about how i'd steal glances at you when i was 19. how i'd started to care for you out of literally nothing. how i'd picked you out of a crowd of 100 on a random day, and kissed you years later.

this tiny part of me always kind of thought we'd end up together.
and a part of me will always think it would have been nice to.

maybe not nice. maybe... natural. way back last year in january i wrote here that i didn't have any feelings for you at all. and yet i kept writing because it felt like drawing to a conclusion, like a shaky foal learning how to stand.

so i wish our conclusion had been different, that's all.