For the past few weeks of lurking around and surviving piles of work, I’ve observed you milling around in the places that we’ve been before things got sour. I don’t know if you’re stalking me or what, but I’m sure that you’re doing it on purpose; which freaked the hell out half of my colleagues and clients.
Let’s say for example; one evening I chanced upon you with your officemates hanging out in the old bar across from your building, along with some random dude hooked up on you. I swear the guy’s a perv, since he’s eating you up with his eyes. You feigned disinterest while I knew deep inside that you know I’m here.
I knew my first response was to be jealous, but I reminded myself that I have no right to do so anymore, and that you might’ve done anything just to make me notice.
And for that, you did a great job.
I noticed everything, if you ask me. Putting up bravado to everybody else while casting dirty glances in my direction doesn’t make any difference to me at all, much less any sense. If you want mudslinging, find somebody else to do it with. I won’t give you the satisfaction.
And if you want me to regret it, then fine. But then again, there’s still karma lurking in the shadows.
I knew I should’ve nursed my stress and paranoia over movie marathons. But then again, a few bottles of beer wouldn’t hurt, right?
Getting up, I put my tab on the bartender, deliberately facing your group. From the corner of my eye I saw your colleagues eating me up with their eyes while yours rolled upward.
Hiding a smile, I flattened my mouth and walked out the door. What did you expect? Coming over to snatch you from your raucous friends and your overly lewd new catch? What a joke. Though I might have given in to the urge of introducing his face to my fist.
Oh come on, get a life, I reminded myself as I led myself out of the door. I don’t want to go there anymore.
And I needed air.
I knew you would tell others that we drifted apart and made me a bad guy to your circle of friends. I’ve anticipated that, and I’ve kept my silence long enough. Now you’re swaggering out and about, arms looped on some random guys each week just to make my friends notice that you’re seeing someone else on a regular basis.
You see, you’re the one who called the shots. I’ve made a million missed calls, thousand messages on your phone, hundreds of messages that went into the realm of seenzoned. I knew you didn’t figure out which one of us called it quits – because you’re too busy wallowing with your drama and self-pity. While I did my best to make you hear me out, you shut me off. You even unfriended me on Facebook; cutting off the last possibility of reaching out to you.
And now that we don’t talk anymore, you suddenly went and confirm that we’re off, and that you regret it. Having fed up on playing along with your games, I just shrugged and apologized (in which you didn’t take well), because what can I do? Grovel?
I’m done with that. I’m done noticing every single thing that you did.
The funny thing is that I keep saying that I’ve moved on, but I’m still speaking as if I’m bitter. That said, I realized that the reason why I’m still behaving bitterly is that you’ve successfully played with my feelings once again.
Just then, a text message from an unlisted number popped out on my phone. Reading the contents, it’s as if my head automatically turned at the bar. I knew it was you who sent that message.
I opted not to reply. What can I say? That I’m still angry? That I’m holding my pride as you turned it to ashes and slander me as a bad guy again?
Days after that encounter and that useless message, I got by the week pretty much uneventfully. Just as I was about to enter my apartment from a tiring day, I chanced upon you walking. Surprised, I watched your expressionless face as I realized that you don’t know where you’re headed to. A few steps later, you frowned, and seemed to shake your thoughts off. Snapping out of your stupor, your eyes widened at me.
Awkward, I smiled and greeted you. As always, you plastered a fake smile.
I tried not to notice, to walk away, but since now we’re here and that the opportunity knocks on my door, I made the first move.
I asked what was stewing in my mind for the last few weeks, even if I knew the answer.
What are you doing to me?
Hi everyone! I took a brief break from writing poems since finals is past approaching and I’ve got the dibs on writing in narrative – so I wrote this in between my subjects.
This songfic is in response to the previous story entitled Like we used to. I apologize for being Puth-centric for the last three days since his latest song ‘Attention’ has basically grabbed my attention (no puns intended); and I wanted to unveil the guy’s take on their relationship; since the girl in the previous story had me made a blubbering mess. I hope I did justice to his song though *laughs*. You can watch/listen to his music video here.
I’ll be back for another round of poems/short stories/commentaries once I’m done with school. In the meantime, please enjoy!