Sunday, April 4, 2010

I have this thing, within the first 5 minutes of speaking with someone, I usually make the decision on whether it's ever going to work out. And by working out, I mean something real. Within the first 5 minutes, I usually semi-subconsciously admit what I end up realizing. And oftentimes, even when, I know things won't work in the long run, I can't help wanting to figure him out anyway. Because I don't get him, because I don't get his lingo, because his taste in music makes me wonder about the kind of person he is, because he's admittedly polite, because of the life he used to live, because.....well, you know, all the reasons why you make these efforts to pursue something at the hopes of maybe proving yourself wrong.

But I've never been wrong.

I remember, it was your birthday that weekend, and I should've showed up. He called me up, told me to come out, they were celebrating your birthday, and I made up a lame excuse because I didn't want to be around you. It's for the birds, you used to say, and you barely knew what the fuck it meant. You were my kind of person, I used to think.

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