~written October 8th~
You're so dumb and poetic.
It's just what I fall for, I like the aesthetic.
I have a type.
I've been served geniuses with tall frames. They're clever and witty, and uniquely humorous. They're all vastly different as humans but would’ve measure at the same percentiles at their pediatricians. I've enjoyed calm, collected, and compassionate...and a little crazy.
They build palaces out of paragraphs.
And recently, one has been caught being dumb....not poetic.
He knew. He knew that he was blocked - that my boundary was drawn. There was a conscious and continuous action into peaking behind the curtain, public or not, that is my life. I've communicated, I've been clear, I've now been heard despite us both knowing the message was put out loud and clear months ago. I didn't ask for the ending, and admittingly, didn't think it would stick. But now? I'm pissed.
And those senseless sentences would've been enough to draw me back into the hopelessness of that future ever being a reality. Because we both know it’s more than the reason you’ve given me but you’re not bold enough to say. And keeping the cards close isn’t about “not hurting me” but about you wanting to keep a bridge unburned.
It’s the sprinkle of toxicity and the desire of possession. Back then, I was searching and scanning for answers. In every line. But a few messages that reflected on a few months, changed my entire perspective and became everything I needed now to be completely removed romantically. Or until that contact photo from an Austrian ski house pop-up.
You...you. You.
Because Don't think you understand.
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