Japan Day 17

Sitting here in the hotel room, quietly blogging and sorting my thoughts out as best as I can. As usual, my thoughts turn to you - it's not fair really, you were just supposed to be an online friend and nothing else... So tell me why I keep thinking about you.

Stupid you. Stupid you and your stupid bad English and spelling and your stupid taste in music and stupid conspiracy theories. Stupid you with your sweet words and stupid me for actually believing them, for believing you when you said that you never talked this way to anyone else, that this could be "something good".

I'm in Japan now, and I keep thinking about how it could have been if you'd have gone to Japan too. Your accent would have been atrocious as always but pretty funny really. I wanted to think about how amazing it could be to be with someone "good" in a country I loved. I wanted to share everything I loved about the country and culture with you because I thought maybe you loved the culture too.

And even when we talked about more personal topics, when we said we'd be there for anything at all, to talk and just listen - where the fuck were you when I needed you? Where the fuck were you when I texted you, when I was hoping against hope that I'd see my phone light up with a text essay from you?

You were just like all the others before - they left after they realised I couldn't give them what they wanted, too.

I didn't want to talk too much about you for fear that I'd jinx myself, that I'd wake up one day only to find that you were just a realistic dream. I was hoping so much that you could be different, that you might not be a frog this time. 

I was wrong. You were exactly like the rest.

I wanted to look forward to you, to text and maybe even call - I was hoping things could "work out" like you said you hoped they would. I wanted to be able to text you in school, at work, exchange notes and laugh at cheesy moments. I wanted to have a reason to be cheesy, to smile for no reason and be like one of those stupid lovestruck girls that I despised. You made me feel that way.

Did you leave because I was too boring for you, too?

I shouldn't be this hung up over someone I've never even bloody met, but I am, and it's because you were the first person to make me feel like "something good" was even a possibility. You felt genuine, and you felt like someone good. I've never believed in long-distance relationships, but you made me think differently. You made me want to make a long-distance relationship actually work out, you made me want to prove myself wrong, that this "something good" could really happen.

I guess it's difficult to gauge how someone really is from over 7000 miles away.

I wanted to talk to you about music and movies and anything and everything. I wanted to see your world, and I wanted to show you mine. Yes, it's cheesy - try and beat that, you fucker. 

I wanted to tell you about my favourite songs, but it's hard because they make me think of you now. I may hate you for just leaving like I was nothing, but I hate myself more for actually believing you, believing that I was so lucky that wow, someone like you actually liked someone like me. 

Well fuck you.

Curse a girl and her wishful thinking. Curse her for being naive enough to think that just because a guy made her feel like she didn't have to put up her walls for once, things could actually "work out". Curse her for actually daring to hope that maybe something like this could have "worked out". 

Curse her for still thinking of you when she feels alone. And curse you because after you left, the bit of darkness you lifted came back and brought friends. Curse you because now she knows she meant absolutely nothing to you.

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