Pussy

Apparently, I ended it with The HunchBack a few days before my birthday.

...Which is why I'm still up at 1.45 am on a Tuesday morning, hoping that by some form of telepathic wizardry, he'll know that I just want to... well talk.
to him.
..and be in his company.

Yes.
I am a girl.
I think about cuddles, and sweet nothings.
I have tears in my eyes, yet I feel that I have nothing substantial to cry about.

I don't even know whether he still has feelings.
for Ness.

Is it right to get so worked up over an almost relationship?

Who am I kidding when I talk about our goings on?
Apart from me, clearly, obsessing about him, there's not much to it.
Is there?

I hate it.
I build myself up like this everytime.
I tell myself that I should let it go.
Not let it affect me.
If we fuck, we fuck.
That's it.
Pure Fuckage.

I toughen myself up, become that confident girl who carries on carrying on.
I have fun, and become that girl who oozes contagious enthusiasm.

...Then out of nowhere, he pops up again.
and I'm a girl, again.

...and I can't even tell him about these thoughts, the frustration that I have no idea what's going on.
I don't know whether to say I like him, or lust him.
The fact that I still don't know the basics about him, yet I've told him more than anyone could find out even if they were stalking me.

I know I always mention the Sex.
Yes, I love it with him.
...but I don't just miss that.

It's never been about Sex.
That was just my cover up.
I am a stupid girl, with a poonani and bastard feelings.

I remember how easy it was to start talking to him.
It was like rearranging your room, and sleeping in a new corner for the first night.
Safe, but, exciting.
We probably spent four months texting back and forth, before we did anything.
Then Summer stole him away... and I got him back that Autumn.
It was light and fun for two years.
The dynamics changed during Christmas.
Feelings were mentioned, and things weren't so carefree anymore.

WhirlWind.
I got caught up in the silent promises that were never spoken.
The assurance that made me take the first step to facing my fear of heights, the sincerity of his condolences...
Fuck it, even the amount of time he spent devoted to making me comfortable, rather than forcing himself upon me...

...and everytime I yearn for him and then realise that there's nothing, I feel like Cameron Diaz in The Sweetest Thing.
The scene after she finds out, that after travelling over three hours to find the guy she went crazy for after meeting him for ten minutes, and just screams.
I feel like that.
Only, I don't have a suitable time nor place for it.

Pop asks all the time about the other guys.
KbW and Taylor... and to some extent the guy who calls me Nuno...
They don't do anything for me.
I need 'Modo, if I want to.

...pathetic.