Crashing
I need to know why things are the way they are between us.
This awkwardness. This indifference. This avoidance. This pretending nothing happened. Making sure none of our friends know the awfulness that lies between us, unspoken but all said in looks across the room that only we understand.
Maybe if I knew the reason I freeze when you are around, maybe if I understood why the very sight of you freaks me out, maybe if I knew why I pretended too, maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe if I understood why we fell apart in the first place I could understand why I feel the way the I do when you are near.
If I could take it all back, would I? The experience of being with you, with knowing you, with understanding you. With getting you. And you getting me. You know how long it's been since I met someone who gets me like you did? Would I take it back if given the option?
My God, I think I would.
Because if you were never there, if I didn't know the sight of breath mints freaks you out, if I didn't know you hate to give hugs but did just for me, if I didn't know the sound of the laugh you bring out when you don't know what else to say, if I didn't know how good your lasagna tastes, if I didn't know what watching The Passion of the Christ did to you, if I didn't have to watch you cry when your mother died, if I didn't know your stubborn streak, or your inability to drink non-organic milk or give a thoughtful gift - if I didn't know all this I wouldn't remember what it was like to have you as a friend. And miss it. I would be able to say that my heart was better for knowing you rather than worse for loosing you.
What I'm listening to: Comfortable by John Mayer
What I�m reading: Why Girls are Weird by Pamela Ribon
This awkwardness. This indifference. This avoidance. This pretending nothing happened. Making sure none of our friends know the awfulness that lies between us, unspoken but all said in looks across the room that only we understand.
Maybe if I knew the reason I freeze when you are around, maybe if I understood why the very sight of you freaks me out, maybe if I knew why I pretended too, maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe if I understood why we fell apart in the first place I could understand why I feel the way the I do when you are near.
If I could take it all back, would I? The experience of being with you, with knowing you, with understanding you. With getting you. And you getting me. You know how long it's been since I met someone who gets me like you did? Would I take it back if given the option?
My God, I think I would.
Because if you were never there, if I didn't know the sight of breath mints freaks you out, if I didn't know you hate to give hugs but did just for me, if I didn't know the sound of the laugh you bring out when you don't know what else to say, if I didn't know how good your lasagna tastes, if I didn't know what watching The Passion of the Christ did to you, if I didn't have to watch you cry when your mother died, if I didn't know your stubborn streak, or your inability to drink non-organic milk or give a thoughtful gift - if I didn't know all this I wouldn't remember what it was like to have you as a friend. And miss it. I would be able to say that my heart was better for knowing you rather than worse for loosing you.
What I'm listening to: Comfortable by John Mayer
What I�m reading: Why Girls are Weird by Pamela Ribon
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