Sunday, September 30, 2012

Should have been said years ago

When I first met you I didn't know what to think of you. You were tall and arrogant looking. You kept arguing with me, but you were very flirtatious. I found it confronting. You found it amusing to say terrible things to make me blush, which at the time wasn't really very difficult.

Then you just kept it up. Challenging me. We started to talk on MSN. First casually chatting about our assignments, then it was epic discussions about our lives and love and the future. Then all of a sudden you were beautiful and I loved you. I went to EVERY class because you were there. I tried harder. I learnt more. I didn't realise what a hunger I have to know more, and what an expectation I have for people to be like you, and take the time to explain things to me.

We got a bit drunk right before my presentation because I was so scared. You decided Dutch courage was the only way for me to get through it. You were right, because I forgot all about that tutor I liked and just stormed through it - all the while wondering what kind of fool I was to put my marks in your hands. From memory, I got a HD.

I think that one of the best nights of my life was when it was 2am or some similar stupid hour, and we were working on our theses. I still have a copy of your track changes somewhere. Out of all the things in our messed up friendship that I deleted, there were two things I kept. The marked up copy and the first time you said 'I love you'.

You gave me books and music to listen to. Right now I have The Unbearable Lightness of Being next to me, because I love it. And it's strange because I don't know if I would have loved it the same way if I had found it on my own. You know that feeling when you love a book so much you feel like it is reading you? I've decided to reread some of your books in the hope that I'll either recognise that feeling or discover that the books can be put aside because the initial love I felt was confused and artificial.

The music I kept.

I think Carry Me Ohio is still one of my favourite songs. You kept telling me to listen to it. I used to wonder if that was your way of telling me you didn't love me enough to stay. To be honest, I was ok with that, because you made me fundamentally dissatisfied with my life, and that meant I went off into the world and had adventures.

The past year or two we haven't really talked. I've missed you. And now you're doing the best thing in the world! I love getting post. I mean, I go mad for it. First time I got a letter from Mr C I almost died from happiness. And now I get something from you too.

I've really missed talking to you.

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