Sometime things happen in my life that just make me look at the Universe and go "are you fucking serious?"
Like this guy I've been thinking about. The one I should have spent more time with at the festival.
He's moving to another country.
Thanks life. This is the first guy in a long time I've thought I might be able to care about. The first time I've let my heart open to the possibility. I was passively reading facebook posts when I came across his that said he was moving and it felt like a train went through my chest. Tears welled in my eyes immediately. I wanted to laugh. It was so shitty but so perfect. Because every time I get this feeling for someone, something ruins it. I felt stupid. I thought it might be different. When I started crying, it felt right. Because it is the only way these things go. When the crying came on, it didn't shock me. It's all I know.
I thought I would tell him I liked him anyway. I have a month before he leaves. I saw him today at work. I couldn't tell him a thing. That I'm sad he's leaving. How I think he's one of the best people I know. How I love the colour of his eyes. And when he talked about why his nose was crooked from running into a shelf as a child, I wanted to tell him it was cute anyway. But I didn't say a word.
Then I saw my guy from Shamb. The one who broke my heart. I haven't seen him in ages. I thought I was over him. I walked past his desk to the truck in the back of the shop and barely uttered a word to him, just waved hello. Here I am, strong-willed and stoic. I know guys hate being ignored. I know it'll make him want me more.
Later in my shift, while I'm working on site, he shows up. He hugs the woman coordinating the show I'm setting up for. He reaches out to me next. He calls me 'doll.' He does this in front of my co-workers. It's like this and it doesn't matter because no one really knows but they can feel it, like a formless black presence beneath a wave. I smile and get back to work.
After some time, he comes to me again and we're alone. He asks how I've been, what I've been up to, what's new. I'm wondering why he's so curious. I think I'm an acting fantasy. He has a vision of what my life is and wants it to match to the reality. I'm not sure where we are at this point so I just talk about school. He asks if my weekend at the festival was awkward working with a co-worker he knows I hooked up with at Shamb. I never saw him there. It's never really awkward for me because I can't let it be. If I do, then I'm no longer capable of sleeping with my friends and not letting it become more. To do this, I have to be sensible enough to not let it feel awkward. It makes me laugh that he asks this. He doesn't know I've slept with that guy again. I don't know where we are right now, if it's still romantic between us or if it was a one-time thing. So I don't mention the guys I've hooked up with. We're staring into each others eyes. He keeps asking how I've been, because his rational mind is functioning below what is normal, and mine is too. It's what happens when you lock eyes with someone you love, you hypnotize each other. I looked at all the shades of brown and gold in his irises and couldn't keep up my conversation. He hugs me again as he's about to leave, he says he misses me. He turns to walk away and I say "you should have been at the festival last weekend, I missed you too." He says something about how he was supposed to go and how he really wanted to be there. He steps towards me again and said 'I totally would have smashed you' before he leaves. My toes curl in my shoes. I feel it in my knees. My co-workers are ten feet away, the possibility that they heard doesn't matter to either of us. It's almost disgusting. Sometimes I wonder what makes me like this, why I like to be spoken to in such a way. Why I seek these situations and why they are in some way the ideal. On one hand, I want to be over this guy and feel nothing for him but on the other, it's euphoric when he texts me out of nowhere that he's thinking of me and that he talks to me with an honesty I've never heard before. I'm laughing in the back of my mind because I know the story of fucking a co-worker in the back of the truck would excite him, but I kept it to myself.
If anyone reading this doesn't believe in karma, my life is bona fide proof that it is. I do well in school and work because I'm a savage. I don't do well in relationships because of the same. At work, one of my bosses calls me into his office to talk about the festival. We had returned the truck a day late and not only that but so late in the day that it caused a hiccup with the rentals we had to return. It's not my fault because I wasn't the lead, but my boss wants to know what happened. He asks if we woke up late, if I was just waiting for the guy driving to wake up that morning. I say yes. I tell him he was falling asleep while driving so I had to drive half the way home. I throw him under the fucking bus. I make myself look like a star. I don't tell my boss it's because I fucked him that night and we hardly slept.
I know it's psychotic. I know I'm four-quarters evil. I know I'm a monster. I know that I destroy the men I fuck. But it doesn't matter and I'll do it forever. I'll do it ten times for every time my heart is broken and churn the infinite cycle. Because the reason no one has ever loved me back is because of how absolutely indifferent I am to the emotional carnage I've committed on people. I had this meeting with my boss, I raked the guy I fucked over the coals for my benefit. And now the guy I like is moving, and the other keeps dangling a bait of affection on a line and every time I'm lured. It's my fault this keeps happening. And if I won't change myself to make it stop, I have to harden my heart just a bit more so that while it happens, at least it won't hurt.