I dislike the fact that I still see this boy as a major source of trauma in my life. Granted, I'm much better off than I was months ago. I am, largely, past it. I am no longer a wreck as a result of his general idiocy, and I have passed the point where I notice what color shirt he is wearing every day (it thrills me).
Still, it frustrates me. I want to be over the fact that I let this boy into my life and he hurt me. I want it to dissipate magically, and worse, I find myself thinking about myself in relation to the opposite sex. I find myself thinking that I want that again, that feeling of elation and hope.
And I do, of course. I am a teenage girl. I am also human (yes, you are rightly shocked).
There was a moment this morning that we rounded a corner at the same time, and in the second that we crossed paths I could have sworn I felt the inches hovering between us. A split second, I thought.
It's silly, maybe.
I find myself wishing I were more than I am, and that just doesn't work.