X and O

So much has changed from the days I spent watching storms with my friends from my grandparents' porch. So much has changed since not long ago when I spent hours getting ready in my salmon-coloured bathroom, dancing to my ipod, all for Alex to come pick me up, fight with me, and to have all of my effort wash off my face in cakey sheets as I cried in my driveway.
A driveway I will likey never stand in ever again, crying for a boy I pray I'll never see again.

But I remember all of these things so vividly, no matter how in the past they are. It's a blessing in a cursed way.

Because back then, on that porch, in that boy's car, picking those songs on that ipod - that's what made me happiest at that second.
In that moment, it was exactly what I wanted.
Funny how greatly my 'wants' have changed over the 20 years of my life.

Funny in a tragic sort of way, I mean.

The one thing that has never changed is my love for honesty, written or spoken. To be able to look someone directly in the eyes and know they see me for who I really am. Having nothing to hide.

That will never go away, and whether I'm 20 or 90, I will never grow out of it.
All of the years after 90 are fair game though.

Yes. I miss those storms and those songs and that boy. I miss how they all made me feel. I always will, until the day I day, and perhaps forever after.

I'll miss them all because I'll remember them all exactly how they happened, and exactly how they made me feel. And I will smile, not sigh, because they will still make me happy; regardless of how each chapter ended.
I was happy then.
And I always will be.

I never let my butterflies turn into demons, and so I'm not afraid to look back over my shoulder.

I know what I've become..

..I'm just unsure of what tipped over the first domino and started the transformation.
I remember wanting to be that fairytale princess, falling in love, having a big family, being that mom that wouldn't care about the stray dog her kids dragged home.
Yadda yadda..
I remember it all vividly.

I say "remember" because as vivid as it may be, it's not my perspective now.
Not even close.

Fairytales bore me; I've become too cynical.
Too analytical.
Princess? Try Queen of Attention to Detail.

And I can't see myself giving birth to a miniature me when I can barely stand myself most days.
No sir, not for me.
Not anymore.

Don't even get me started on the "L" word.
Agh. I hear the phonetics start and my hands are already up over my ears, and I'm chanting "la-la-la-lalalala-laaaaaaaa!"
Sometimes I have such a dislike for the word that I find myself groping my crotch to make sure I haven't developed man-parts.
Yeahhhh it's that bad.

I've become the antithesis of myself.
I don't want love.
I want to use you up until I'm bored and jump ship.
That's it.
That's all I want.

I don't want best friends, it's just another term for 'convenience' anyway and as much as I'm all about convenience, I'd like to be able to get rid of you whenever I please.

Sorry, but honesty hurts.
And honestly, I'm not that sorry.

Don't get me wrong: there's still a select few (three, rather) that still sit inside my private circle - but you'd be surprised to find out who they really are.
And who they aren't.
And just where you fall.

Right now you're thinking back to every conversation we had and every topic we skimmed across.
Why? I can promise that even though you're conjuring up the worst possible scenario, you're right.
You're wondering about all the times I called.
But more importantly - all the times I didn't.
All the things I never said and never will, but also all of the things I never asked and never will - because I just don't care.

We're all aware of the famous saying by the famous person, "You learn from experience. Regret nothing."
And even though I am well aware of the fact that I mashed a few famous sayings together and couldn't name the famous somebodies, I'll tell you this:
You may learn from experience but you'll learn a lot more a lot faster watching everyone else burn themselves.
It saves on regrets, too.

Over It.

I'm sure I won't be the first or last person to tell you I'm sick of your shit.
I haven't played tug-o-war since grade school and to be honest it's a game that never held much appeal to me even then.
If I'm going to fight with somebody I'm at least going to bust a few knuckles. I'm way past arguing at this point in my travels.

You said you were done.
So be done.

Don't stick around and bait me.
Because I'll bite. Every time.

Don't demonstrate your compassion or maturity for me.
Believe me, I've seen both firsthand.

You talk a lot of game but we both know I'm not going to be kicking or screaming at your feet.

See I've moved on; a concept you made damn sure I knew you grasped.
Or should I say mastered?
Hell! According to you, you'd ALREADY moved on. So why am I the one further ahead?
Why are you texting and calling just to make sure I know not to call or text?
As if I'd forget.

You threw in the towel.
Hooray! You're free!
..then you ask what I want from you?

Nothing, baby.
I already have your towel.