that crap I had spontaneous remission.
I fell in love with a girl and we had what I thought was a good
relationship except she kept on dumping me. We'd get together again
after a few days. After the fourth time she dumped me we met up just
before Valentine's Day and we didn't get back together.(I'm sure she'd
count the dumpings differently)
I was pretty straight with her and told her to "go fuck yourself" after
she accused me of not really loving her. She left shortly afterwards.
Once I'd finished my drink I left and went round her house with the
things I'd made for her as a Valentine's present. It was a framed print
of a photo I took the night we got together. I'd spent about an hour
working on the image. I'd also made a small donation to War on Want
which was part of the art of the print and my philosophy.
We had a good relationship after that. There were no bad feelings and I
even left a little leaving present which showed her that I still loved
her (when she left work).
I'm sure she has reasons to be annoyed with me other than our
relationship together but I just wonder what she tells other people?
I wonder this because I'm pondering what happened that night last year
when my heart was ripped from my body and pummeled, that night which
left me in pain for such a long time and caused me more grief than
anything else in the last couple of years.
A girl who was probably my best friend at the time had a birthday
celebration. I'd admitted to a friend of mine that I'd had feelings for
her, feelings beyond friendship. I ended up chatting with one of her
friends and someone I considered more than an acquaintance. We sat
outside the bar where everyone else was.
This was the day when this friend of my friend told me not to love her.
She told me it was the girl i loved who had asked her to not love her.
I asked the wrong question. I should have asked why I shouldn't love her
rather than who told her to tell me to not love her.
All three of these girls - my ex-girlfriend, the girl who told me not to
love the girl I love and the girl I love - are all friends. They're
reasonably close. At least two of them fancied me but that's another
story. Perhaps all three but I'll never know. That's not important.
What's important is why? I wonder if the reason I was told to not love a
girl I was intensely in love with and still am though it hurts more than
sticking a lit cigarette into my flesh was, in part, related to hearsay
from my ex-girlfriend.
I wonder if it was because of being bad mouthed? Or simply because the
girl I love had a boyfriend, a boyfriend who was better for her than I.
This is something I fucking knew and for all that it broke my heart is true.
I'm the Hunchback of Notre Dame and the girl I love...well....she's more
than Esmerelda. She is a precious flower and I would not want her harmed
by me no matter how much I suffer without her in my life. That's called
love but it...it eats me up inside every day.
I suppose I'll never know the truth but the girl I love knows the truth.
No comments:
Post a Comment