I don’t remember the colour of your eyes. Were they dark brown or the average black? Truthfully, I never memorized them. I didn’t feel the need to. But, you did and I am sorry. You were perfect and it seemed to me more like someone else’s perfect. The kind of shoes that are the ones but always look better on someone else. Yeah, that kind. Maybe that was it because I like the delusional-wrong and somehow the incorrect usually works with me. The improper, unfitting tend to fix better. Again, it wasn’t your fault and I need you to stop making us work. The bitch.
You are the 8-colour box of crayons and I am the lunatic looking for the 64-colour boxes of crayons, y’know the ones with sharpeners and everything. I want turquoise, lilac, sunshine etcetera but all you have wanted was blue, pink and the likes. But I want turquoise! Let me be unrealistic. The absurd.
You go on wondering if I am okay, if you did something wrong, if you said something, if you were responsible for my unhappiness. But I am not that damned damsel distressing about – whatever damsels’ distress over – and I’m not even running away. No. I do not lament on any pitiful aspect of life. The fool.
Worst of all; you never got my sarchasm. The funny ones specially. Never deciphered the hidden quotes I’d pick from the novels. Not even the “How you doin’?” You said I never made you feel like we were together together. Now how do you suppose that would've been possible? The pretentious prick.
I hardly remember the stories you told or the incidents narrated. Ah well, I remember it all but I pretend to not. It’s easier that way. Slowly and gradually inching away. You’d think I like to sit in the bath tub and pretend I’m in a Soffia Coppola film. Well, that’s entirely not… false. There is something appealing about being pensive in a bath tub. The quixotic.
I was also at fault for playing with your emotions just because I was unsure of mine. However, that is what I always do. Maybe, continue to do. Mixed signals and second thoughts are a part of my existence and I am surprised you never figured it out. Or maybe you did, but like everyone else, chose to ignore. The jerk.
Moreover, I am amazed being the guy you didn’t know the game. The game. It’s like this: play around, have fun, share stories and secrets and everything, cry, laugh, make promises, hold hands but don’t fall for one another. Because the first one who does, loses.
And god, I love to win.
Well, now you’ll know what to do next time and peeps, that’s how you become a heartbreaker.