You want to say you’re alright, I guess.
You just called, left a message, asking how he was,how you were jealous, how you wanted him to transfer with you, you’ll talk to him in two months. Something like that, something sad.
You saw him today. He wouldn’t look over at you as you tried to catch his attention twice in class. And he walked ahead and you didn’t try to catch up; you didn’t want to.
You called today He didn’t answer, maybe he’s working you say to yourself. You called because you missed him and wanted to know how he was, if he was okay. And you found a lot of stuff that reminded you him. Receipts for the drink at the movies or the dress to meet his mom or his Christmas gift, the bus pass when you two started out, your transfer from the last time you two really went out. And so you wrote him in that journal you always write to him in.
And you miss him, but you’re also mad still.
And maybe he’s not okay because he doesn’t know what he wants. And you don’t know either what you want to be honest. Sometimes you think you feel better without him.
So fuck it. Two months, two months. Or maybe you leave him behind before you even notice that you did.
That boy is an idiot.