please don't be mad i wrote this

If you are reading this, and you know who you are - though I highly doubt you are reading this; I want to express the fact that this is not aimed at you. Though a good deal of this IS about you, it's mostly about me and my feelings.

You might think that it's a little silly or "out there" to be posting my feelings on a public forum, but I've had a lot of time to collect my thoughts over the past few months on the journey to find myself and who I want to be. There were certain times I did not express things out of fear of judgement or being turned away.

And by chance, if you are reading this, I hope you don't think I'm crazy for missing you just a little bit - but I'd never admit it to you out loud. If you were to call me right now, I'd answer.

Take care of yourself. I know this is too much.

_

It's almost midnight.

I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever forget what your face looks like. To be fair, I haven't yet because every single day I think about you - maybe not every single day, but most days. I don't know why. Its not because I want to, it just happens, just like a lot of things just happen. I'm tired of things just happening for the sake of happening. I understand that this sounds very cliche, and too much like a movie – I wish I had a more creative way to describe how I feel, but I feel like there’s no point in trying to describe things in some beautiful way.

These feelings are not beautiful.

Sometimes the thoughts are fleeting, quick, a flash or an instance. Sometimes it's memories, even though, looking back we didn't really do anything most people would call memorable. But I remember things. The little things, the things that made sense to me, and only me. I never quite figured out everything that you thought - I couldn't read your mind. I probably wouldn’t have liked what I discovered with my new power anyway.

I think I speak for most females when I say that I wished I could during certain times - and I wonder if I could now, would you be thinking of me? Do you remember the little things too?

Do you still remember that I like peach Snapple?

Do you remember that I like olives and bacon on my pizza and don't like sleeping towards the wall?

Will you remember after much more time has passed - will there be certain things that you encounter that make you think of me? I wonder how they will make you feel.

I wonder if you will think of me fondly, or just another mess. You even had a problem with me apologizing, so I’ll say it for the last time – I’m sorry for apologizing. I'm not going to stop apologizing to anybody.

I don't hate you. I don't resent you. I don't wish that you had not come into my life. I wish things had been different - just like I wished you knew more than three Natalie Merchant songs. But things are not different, things will never be different. I can pretend to be okay with things all I want, but maybe it’s not the truth – I have a hard time seeing things for what they are due to some star chart bullshit that I don’t fully understand; I pretend I understand it though.

It's stupid to me.

Everything is stupid, because I want to hate you.

I want to hate you so much, that it almost hurts.

But I don't. I don't know why my brain can't wrap it's head around why I can't hate you.

But as you know, I hate most things.

Please don't forget me, or I might forget you.