Obsession

"I love you."

Oops.

I meant to say, "I think your cool new Jordans are nice," or, "You making me breakfast was the highlight of my week," or "Goddamn the sex is good."

But instead my waterfall of words tumbled slow motion-like over my mouth, salty like the ocean's waves...salty like your plumpy-pinkish purple lips kissing mine in the too-dark-room where I could hardly see your deep brown eyes, burning a hole into my bright blue ones.

"I love you" means "I'm scared and you got a new job and I don't want you to leave without considering me first even though we've only known each other 2 months."

But you still looked at me with fear in your eyes. Feeling in your heart. And sorrow in your seemingly unreciprocated words, "Feelings?" you stumbled, "I mean I have them. Just not like yours."

Just...not...like...YOURS.

But you told me you feared heartbreak.

You told me you hide your emotions in fear of getting hurt.

You told me you run from feelings.

Does that equal "I love you too" somewhere in the deep recesses of your heart?

But at this point, after disappearing and not reaching out for days on end...

I realize your ghosting means you meant it.

You don't love me, too.

My "I love you" came at the "worst possible time" (your words, not mine, verbatim).

Goddamnit.

And now you're in Colorado again, leaving me to pick up the pieces of my quirky, awkward, broken heart.

In fucking Virginia.

How many miles.

HOW MANY.

1,668.

Can I drive there? Fly? Fucking run?

Maybe if I ran I could run the feelings out and they'd be gone by the time I arrived on your doorstep.

So I could tell you to your beautifully chiseled face, "I don't love you anymore"

And you could feel MY pain for goddamn once.