Let me sing you a waltz

Allow me to rant for the last time.

I have no idea where you are right now. I don’t get any messages from you, see you, or even hear about you. You didn’t even text when you found out about my grandmother’s funeral. I don’t know if you still have that lame pain in the ass job of yours, if you’re still driving your parents’ beat up trash on wheels, if you’ve been hooking up with girls probably half your age. You stopped checking my site, too. Dude, that shit was our thing. I put in a lot of imagination as to why you’re not doing so, thinking that maybe one of your psychotic girl_friends might have hacked your account, or a dog ate your tablet, basically to give you the benefit of the doubt. That you don’t really mean to NOT care about what i have been up to. That you would check up on me if you could. That you still care. I still want you to.

You said you’re confused. I’m just as confused as you are, probably even more than you could ever be, because you were the one who left me faster than i can shout any one syllable curse word. All i got was that fucked up text message saying that you’re sorry for everything. Wtf man. How come you get to be the one with other things on your mind and i have to be the one stuck to where we were, analyzing every detail as to why things between us went downhill. Why you poof’d out of my life, just like that. 

You should know that I’m running out of excuses for you. But somehow I am still dying to hear from you. I still want you back. 

There are people who move on from one person to another like switching bags, you know. And there are others who just can’t, at least not after a year or so. At least in the end I learned something about myself.

I hope you call. For the birthday girl. Please?