Change…

There’s a saying about change being so slow you don’t notice until it’s too late… or something to that effect.  I’m not sure if there’s more to it, but there should be.

Sometimes change happens so fast that even though you’re acting like nothing’s changed your whole life is different.  You’re hair.  Your room.  Your income / outgo.  You have a boyfriend and no roommate.  And your best friend for five years is no longer speaking to you.

All these things could change within weeks of each other.  And maybe you can’t change that fast.  Maybe you can’t make the switch from single to taken, or from best friends to not friends or from living with someone to living alone, or having money to not having money.  Or maybe the only way you know how to cope is to change everything.  

Except, I don’t know how to change with you.  I thought you know that now that you were mine… my boyfriend, that I wouldn’t need this.  That I’d be able to say all the things I want to you.  And I could, but you alreadie think I’m crazie, how much more crazie do I want to seem?

I’m jealous of those girls… I know this is sillie and stupid and wrong and I would never ever tell you.  But I am, just a little.  Not because of what you’ll think, but because they know you.  They can see you like you are.  We were never reallie friends.

I want you to make plans with me.  I know you work and you have friends and things to do, but I have a life to, and you always assume that I’ll give up bits of it to be with you… and I would.  But I don’t want this to be one sided.  I want you to come here, and stay with me.  First it was 3 days… then two and a half, then two and soon it’ll be a night and a day, and I won’t say anything, because I’m so pathetically grateful to spend anytime at all with you.

And I want you… and I know that you say it now.  You want me.  You love me.  But I guess I still want to know why now?  why me?  What’s changed. 

And you can’t give me answer for this anymore than you could when the question was why NOT me?

But I still want one.  And I’ll probablie always be terrified until I get one I can understand, because I still don’t understand anything about you.

Good night.

 

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About SleepieBear

Opinions are my own. Facts are poorly checked. (Unless cited.) Use your brains.
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