You are a waste of time.
And yet, here I sit, having just squandered away a whole shift talking of how I have preceved you to be. And how preception can be deciving.
Nothing is like it used to be, and all I want is to hit rewind and get back some time to tell you that I never wanted anything to get like this.
I should have just shut up.
I should have just spoken up.
Every different reaction now floats through my head like a teasing other realm, where one different conversation or one changed move would have gotten me you.
You're so not worth this stress.
At the same time, you're worth everything. Even this.
There's this absence when I talk to you now.
Like something good has passed, and will never be reclaimed.
Why are you so stupid?!
I just want to talk to you again, from under your grip.
I like the way you smile.
I wish that you'd have just been a little smarter, a little nicer, a little cleaner.
I wish you'd just be an ass so I can justify wiping you from my memories.
You're nothing. You're over.
I want you gone.
Oh fuck it.
Come over.
