Why is it that every time I take a second to slow down, I’m just thinking about the things that I could’ve done better with her? Then I just admit to myself that I’m depressed and though things will inevitably get better as time glazes over the feelings that I’m having right now, even though I can barely acknowledge that I was already having doubts. From the beginning, there were these glaring doubts and I chose to ignore them. Now that I’m on the rejected end of the spectrum, I’m too busy feeling pity for myself to revisit things that I wrote-off as my being shallow or self-absorbed and close-minded, when it’s very possible that these were red flags all along. The fact still remains, though, that of all the dates and faux-dates and whatevers I’ve been on in the past year, she was the first one that got a hook in me. She kept me coming back because something in my brain liked what was going on in her brain. I liked looking at her. I liked her words. I liked her. Now, I just like the fact that I breathe, sometimes. I’m a person that needs communication, and she was busy a lot more than not. That left gaps that grew a needing to be filled. Instead of tending to myself, I let her run the gauntlet over my emotions since I like to believe and pretend that I have none. Turns out that I actually do. It gets exhausting being wrong a lot.