How do I know I’m not ready to be an adult?
Well, lots of reason, but there is a specific one that’s gotten my panties in a fucking bunch right now.
So, I resort to my online diary.
This brings back so many bad memories, of a time when I had a notebook with rainbow coloured pages, where I scribbled one name over and over again with a brand new fountain pen.
Of a time that is true representation of uncontrolled daydreaming. Of a time when my heart lurched from a happenstance coincidence that meant he was on the same bus stop as me.
Yes, its about him.
That one terrible debilitating power that made you discover the stalker in you, the fool in you, the downright idiotic daydreamer in you.
Six years and a million other incidents should have made me forget, right?
I mean, Ive still got a long way to go, but I can’t be the same stupid girl I was when I was 12.
Its not possible.
Yet my heart is beating faster than ever, and I feel like that twelve year old who had her first crush, all over again.
Logging into Facebook will never result into something happy, when the fuck will I learn.
My head is flooding with more memories than I knew I had, and everywhere I see what had made him so special to me.
It was a fucking infatuation, get over it.
But no, instead I find myself doing what I have never done. Stalking.
Thankfully he was absent on Facebook for about five years.
There is only one entry under 2016. It says he has moved to another city to get a law degree.
In a pointedly un-updated Facebook page, he sent me a request almost three years since we last saw each other.
In another world, in another situation, with another mentality.
I’ve changed so much since then, found new things about myself, and just when I thought nothing from that time could break me, he came parading in with a fucking friend request.
Fuck you, Facebook.
Fuck your chocolate brown eyes, and the boyish smile that sent my heart to a horse race.
I thought I was over it.
Bloody, bloody hell.
Should I accept his request?
But, maybe he’s changed.
He was in a fucking rehab.
He’s getting a degree, imagine him in a suit-fuck shut the fuck, abort mission.
Maybe he is-
Nothing. He is nothing
Deep breaths. You can do this.
But you’re so lonely.
Yes, because the last time you dated a Junkie he took over your life.
But you only dated the best friend of your first and probably only crush ever.
He isn’t worth the thought. Get over it.
Not going back into that circle, not even for him.
But he is damn cute.