The Virginity Monologues

I think about you often these days. It makes sense, I mean, we talk about you and our dysfunction in therapy frequently. Even on my best days- you are the subject that always makes me break down. And it takes me by surprise every time. Especially the first time, when she asked about my most recent relationship. All I said was your name. I immediately felt as if someone had poured a bucket of pain all over me and pretty soon, I was sobbing.

I don’t know why it STILL hurts so much. Was it that you cared so little? Or that I cared so much.

You are never far from my thoughts. Even at times when there’s no way I should be thinking of you. Like Saturday night, when Nicole and I met up with some boys that she knows at that ‘club’ in Queens. It reminded me of the night of one of your boys’ bachelor party, when you were texting me all night, then came to get me on your way home, even though it was 5 am. And here I was, at this ‘club’, being hit on by 2 of the hottest men I have seen in a long time, and I’m wishing I’m with you instead.

To the point that I almost called you as I poured myself into bed around 5 am. Luckily, Nicole called to have a heart to heart about our friendship and by the time we hung up, I was so tired, I could barely form coherent sentences. I fell asleep thinking of my favorite things about you, not the unbearably hot man that had taken my number earlier. I thought of the laugh lines around your mouth. Your funny walk. The crook of your neck. I thought about how tightly you would hold me in the mornings. And how you always, always called me on my bullshit.

Hope is the theme for my life these days. Learning to let it back in. Not to let my cynicism become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I hope that someday, I will be over you.

Today's Title from: Nightswimming by REM

Labels: Oscar