It’s Not Funny

It’s funny how the world works. You meet people and you don’t think a lot of them. You meet people and instantly fall in love them. She was the latter to a degree. Well, to be fair, I think I’m yet to experience love, as such, with anyone outside of my family but my feelings for her are the closest that I’ve ever been to it.

To be honest, I can’t remember when we first met but that doesn’t matter now. She acts like we’ve never even met. She doesn’t remember the memories of me, yet I’m overwhelmed with memories of her.

How do I know that? Actually, how do I not fucking know that. It’s plain to see now that we’re over. Am I angry? No, I can’t seem to ever be angry with her. Sad? Shit yes. Do I show it? No. I’m a 19-year-old boy. I’m not allowed to show that kind of emotion. I live with two of my best guy mates. If I was to ever break down on the outside of my body like I do on the inside they’d think I am crazy. I’m starting to think I am slightly crazy.

The way we got talking, can that be described as crazy? Probably. I had met her a few times previously but it wasn’t until she came over to mine for a party that I really thought ‘this girl is someone I really like’. I hate how easily I gain feelings. I was drunk off a few too many beers that night and thought, as only the annoying/creepy me would, to tag her in the comments of something like 54 Instagram posts. It somehow caught her attention. She messaged me on Facebook the next day, something along the lines of ‘Oh wow.’ From then on we talked for about 6 months.

It didn’t take that long before we subtly declared our liking towards each other. I seemed to crack her shy nature, which I adored. Beautiful. Funny. Never says a bad word about someone else. She was everything I wanted and more. She’s probably out of my league now that I think of it.

Of the things that would hinder our relationship though, is the fact that she going on her OE next year. This was often a topic of discussion. I hated talking about it. She said she hated talking about it. I still hate talking about it. I don’t talk about it.

One of my favourite bands called Six60 have a song called Beside You. It’s about a guy who’s going away to London and is so caught up in what’s in front of him that he leaves his past (his girlfriend) behind and how bad the ex girl copes with it. Listen to that. Swap the guy and girl in the lyrics around. That’s me and her in a four-and-a-half-minute song.

This OE would soon be the reason for the end of us, so she said anyway. One Friday night she invited me round to her house while her parents were away. We watched a movie then got to business under the covers. The thing was though, I’d never had sex sober. Two times I had made love to her while drunk but never sober. I didn’t see this as a problem until the business time came. I was so nervous. I couldn’t get hard. I explained this to her. She seemed to understand so we just settled for cuddles and kisses. I love that kind of stuff anyway.

A week later and everything had changed. It wasn’t a text saying come over it was a text saying I just need a break from everything. Apparently not just me, but everything. This was when I first got worried. It kept me up later than usual some nights but I got through. I got in contact with her a couple of weeks later asking if everything was okay. It was. We were back to normal, or so I thought.

The same shit happened soon after. I knew it was over then. The slow replies were always a sign that she wasn’t happy with the situation. But that’s her. She’s too nice that it hurts me even more than it would if she told me what she felt. She didn’t want to tell me straight that we needed to stop. I had to ask her. She was extremely apologetic. It was sincere. She meant no harm in not telling me. She just didn’t want to deliver the bad news. To me though, the care has made the past six or so weeks some of the hardest of my life.

Not knowing why is what is getting to me the most. Is it because of my sexual performances? I think it could well be. She was my first time. I know that I’m shit in bed. I’m almost certain that’s a factor.

Is it the fact that she’s leaving overseas? I’d say that has something to do with it.

That’s not the hardest bit though. The hardest bit is the snubbing of me ever since. I have bumped into her on the street on one occasion since and it was like we barely knew each other. She knows things about me that almost no others do. We were each other’s for months for fuck’s sake.

Then came my birthday a week ago. Not even a text. Not even a post on my Facebook wall. As stupid as that sounds, one little message to wish me a happy birthday isn’t hard considering our history. It would have been nice to know she still thinks of me as a friend. At least for one day of the year. It’s just added to my complications and confusion.

Can we not still be friends? Just talk-every-once-in-a-while kind of friends, I don’t mean ‘friends’ as in talking to her every day. I’m not looking for that. That would make the process of getting over you will become nigh-on impossible. It already seems that, actually.

It’s ridiculous what makes me think of you nowadays. Any movie does. Why? Because we watched like four together. Stupid, I know. I’ve watched movies before with other girls but for some reason any movie is now linked back to her. The bus stop where I’d get onto buses to your house. Waffles. My local sports team. The beach down the road. A restaurant I walk past almost every day. Pretty much any love song… Sometimes even just sleeping.

The few times that I woke up next to her were like they are in the movies. I’d just look to my side and admire the beauty that was lying there next to me. I’d appreciate how lucky I was to be there next to her. Now I wake up facing a dull wall of plain cream colour. I realise how empty life is without her.

All I want to do is talk to her and see how she’s going. I don’t want to do it to try and rekindle any old feelings of hers. That’s how it would come across, though. Why does it have to end with no communication between the two? We didn’t end on a sour note. I accepted that she was moving on. At least I did on the outside. I asked if she still wanted to be friends and she genuinely seemed like she did want to. That isn’t the case though and it fucking hurts.

I wonder every morning how much longer this torture of having her in my head is going to last. I will only know once it stops I guess. I’m talking to another girl at the moment but the feelings that I have for this new girl almost feel forced.

My friends say this will help me get over her. It’s not working though.

Will it ever?

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