i will
not let you, and him, and her, and them,
think it was my fault. the sad thing is, you don't see. you never have. you never will.
he is the reason for these things.
did i make mistakes? yes. it's nature.
did i just watch you as if you were something on the television?
no. and i will never, ever, ever fucking let you believe that.
it's obvious now that we'll never be compatible >>
especially not with you blaming me all the time.
i at least trusted you, i at least told you my feelings, i at least let you know that being introverted and quiet and anxious was bad for me. it is, and was, hell. you think i didn't want to be around you? you think i had no interest in asking you out for coffee, cuddling while reading our favorite books? you think i didn't want to press my lips against yours in the darkness?
you're wrong. i was watching you with sneaky glances, and admiring looks.
it was doomed from the beginning. because guess what?
WE'RE BOTH TOO FUCKING TERRIFIED OF OURSELVES.
i wanted you to tell me about this weekend. you didn't. i heard from others, i was ignored by you.
yes, i may have held your heart in my hands. but it's not like i could ever fucking tell.
