You make me stressed

Click click

“What are you doing?”

“You make me stressed.”

I drew a long breath and blew out over my shoulder. I feel my chest tighten. Anxious. Stressed. I don’t like this one bit. I avoid this. Yet for some reason he thinks this is worth spending time with. Weekly messages, asking to hang out. He takes a long look at me. I told myself I wasn’t going to be like this. Yet here I am. Only making my image worse. Yet who cares about image at this point, he already decided he doesn’t want me. Still, this is low. I’m tempted to put it out. 

“You make me anxious. I’m freaking out.”

“Why do you freak out.”

Why so many questions? Why does he pretend to care? He knows the answer too. Does he want me to say it again or is he just dumb. No, he’s not dumb, he also knows I’m not usually like this. I keep avoiding him. I need to, us sitting here, alone, trying to find words to fill the void. I said all my words a while ago. There’s nothing left to do, he already replied vaguely. By avoiding him I’m respecting his space. He doesn’t need to keep coming back. Coming back and drawing out the pain. Why does he want to be friends. I have nothing left. If he doesn’t like what I have he should just let me leave. 

“Please let me leave.”

“What do you mean.”

I don’t want to cry. It’s my nervous habit to laugh and dance but all I can do is shiver and take another hit.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

It hurt so much when I saw what my words did to him. How they made him flat. He listed reasons why he might return the feelings as if it was easier to let me down if he attached a string of compliments. Or worse, maybe he felt like he needed to convince himself. So here we are. I wonder if I am obvious enough with my avoidance. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. He needs to let me leave. I care about him. Too much. And with nothing in return there’s nothing for me to do but leave. Leave and let him be. I hate how much I’ve thought about this. Maybe he genuinely has forgotten. Or maybe he feels bad, pity. I told him long ago that being friends is more fulfilling than a relationship ever could be. Does he remember that? Is he trying to do that for me? Out of pity? It was all lies. All I ever do is lie. But with this I’m serious. I hate it when he texts me with exclamation points. I hate it when he lets the conversation fade. It proves that this is all a show. He didn’t know how he felt and now he’s thinning out what little is left of me. But I really want to leave him alone. 

“You don’t have to be friendly. I’m okay with leaving this.”

Published by lornamusings

I write here when I delete all my social media and pretend I don’t exist. I’m a teenager who used to live on a beautiful farm by a creek tucked into the sweet aroma of Concord grapes. Now I live in a 15 story apartment complex above a dog park in Philadelphia.

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