It isn’t funny anymore. Well, not that it ever was. I’m not some teenage queen bee or wannabe who gets her kick from being the center of everyone’s attention. I don’t want any attention, especially not yours. Please leave me alone.
Don’t pretend I didn’t see you yesterday at the coffee shop at 9th Avenue. It’s funny how I never even took you there yet there you were; staring at me behind a fence of books. I especially liked the way you creepily peeped through one of the holes in your wall of text and how your skin deliberately brushed against mine as you were walking towards your seat.
Please, this is not okay. I saw you kicking a rusty can outside my window last night. What were you doing there? No, wait, don’t answer that. I am not interested. Just stop following me.
This isn’t some sick game where you follow me around until I fall in love with you again. You had your chance and you—we—fucked it up. Didn’t you learn anything from that? Didn’t your heart break enough for you to keep on doing this? Look, what we had, it was special but that’s all it was. We were young and stupid for each other and it didn’t end well. It ended in a lot of crying, a lot of pain and a lot of lessons were learned. It would be a shame if we’d just let those lessons go to waste. Let’s move on. It’s for the best.
All things considered, you were actually really kind to me. Fuck, I don’t want to sound like I’m reminiscing or something but I actually liked the way you held me by the shoulders as you part my lips with yours, the way you looked at me whenever I pretend to be asleep, the way you told me that you don’t remember how life was before I came along, the way you said that you would die if we break up and the way you loved me enough to fire a bullet through your chest when we did.
You were in bed with me when I woke up this morning. It felt kind of awkward since it had been months since I last spent a night tangled with you. I don’t want to admit it but I actually missed that feeling.
Fuck, there you go again. Please stop following me. I am trying to move on.
Tags: Johanna Perez, JBPerez4, Philippines, thought catalog, fiction, calm yo tits, this is fiction, hipster shit, life, personal