Years From Then

Years from then is now my now

and I still pathetically find myself looking for your approval.

I still am utterly conscious of you in this crowded room, sitting right in front of me.

I pull my chair away so as not be as close enough to you to smell your cologne

I avoid looking into your eyes as much as I can

It is all but an utter failure.

I know it’s a trick of my brain, that I do not feel anything towards you anymore. In fact, I hate the way you talk about things, that immature daftness about you that I failed to spot before. You’re utterly opinionated and narcissistic, else who would even have their own picture on their phone screen? Me, I could never do that because I cannot stand to see my face so often and rather see something beautiful and inspiring.

You hate everything about me

You mock anything I say or do

Any big achievement of mine is a joke to you

And every time you ask me something unprecedented, something beyond the imagined conversions in my mind that I’ve had with you, I’m speechless

and then I say the dumbest thing imaginable possible.

I cannot but be awkward before you

It infuriates me to look at the mess I am before you

I’m still as vulnerable as I was then

All my promises to be poised and graceful are broken.

I wished I’d never known you.

In the most beautiful place imaginable, living the dream I had dreamed for myself, all I can think about is what you think of me. Have I impressed you enough? What else can I do to prove that I am beyond you, that you and me are never possible, more to myself than to you.

But you.



© That Girl in the Fray, 2016. All rights reserved.


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