ken

Every action I do has its unique sound effect that only plays in my head. That's one of the little ways I've been practicing to making myself my own main character as a recovering bird. When my palms slathered with cold moisturizer kiss my face, it sounds like a finger sliding on a wine bottle's rim with half full of water (I've also been trying to speak positively not only of myself but with anything; me as a full-time bird would've said half empty). My eyes are closed as I massage circles from forehead to my cheeks, then a sparkling electronic sound tickles my brain as I open my lids. I step out of the bathroom already in my fluffy pikachu onesies—on top of being a recovering bird I'm also a recovering alcoholic, and creating a comfortable and fun sleeping conditions for myself helps me regulate my nervous system and not be tempted to touch a drink. I turn off the bright white lighting in my room and set my orange lamp. Since I was in the bathroom for a while, and I've made it a habit not to bring my phone with me anymore even merely for playing some music, I am only able to read the new notifications from Suze as I pick up my phone from my bed, ready to tuck myself in.

Suze: hey last minute but there's a queer event 20 minute away, me and dasha are going. you don't have to drink. we can pick u up if you wanna come, were going in 30 mins.

It's been 17 minutes since the text. If I want to come, I have probably 10 minutes left since they live about 7 minutes away (they're roommates). I'm really tempted since it's been too long since I last went to any social event ever. I've been so serious about straying away from the dating scene after my last lesbian heartbreak that I've made myself a hermit. I can go to the event and look at pretty gay people without making it my problem. Besides, I'd love to gain some new queer friends. Two minutes pass. Jesus, I have 5 minutes!

Jackie: I'm going but omg i have 5 minutes left im in a onesie!

Suze: girl chill we can wait for you a few more minutes. dont take too long tho there is a band were looking out for whos gonna play in the event we dont wanna miss it out but you can take your time:) you can wear whatever anyway cus the themes "oops wrong event"

Jackie: OHH PERFECT

My New York trip I thought would help me move on from you only worked for a while, unfortunately. In fact, I doubt it even worked at all. I thought of you while I was in New York. I saw your name in one of the souvenir shops I walked into and took a picture of it—almost sent it to you even (almost even bought the keychain), which wouldn't really be a huge deal but it feels kind of weird after not texting you for a while. Do you ever feel weird about it too? It's just, you would tell me to text you before. And we would text almost constantly. Are you glad we're not anymore? I'm sorry. I don't mean to have all these feelings for you. But I know for sure I wasn't delusional, and at some point you gave me hints that we could be something more. It feels weird to me that it was never addressed. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I don't want it addressed it either, the way you also clearly don't. God, it feels odd and heavy. Odd and heavy. Yet you won't hear a thing from me. I can handle this without saying anything. It shall pass. It always passes. I mean, I wish it would faster. But it's okay. It will pass, it will pass. I will be okay. I will see you soon and I shall be okay with it. You haven't followed up about the hangout. I hate it so much when I remember it, because it has probably left your mind, which is why you never followed up about it. I have stopped expecting for that to happen ever. I have stopped expecting anything from you. But I do wish for once you would mean your words. I wish you meant even just one of them.

Man, honestly, I think being near you again is making me think about all of these all over again. I lowkey need to be in New York again. Or anywhere. Far from you and everyone. I need a new job. I just can't be around you anymore.

It is a bit odd coming back here after some while of not writing about you. I don't even know what I feel now about you. I don't think my feelings have completely vanished, but my heart has surely given up, and my mind fatigued of thinking of you. I still think of you, if not; I won't be writing again. Sometimes I feel like I am choosing to think of you. The thought of you has felt safe after several months that you've been lingering in my head. Safe to say though, that I have moved on. In a way that I'm starting to look forward to meeting someone else. Somewhere. And I don't hope anymore that it'd be you. I have stopped, finally. And I am so glad. We can slowly be truly friends now. Nothing more. It's still heavy when I see you. I don't know why. Everything about you has just always felt uncertain, I guess.

I can't stop being obsessed with you and it fucking sucks, man. And for that reason, I refuse to call it limerence or some shit. I know I like you. Because the more I know you, the more I fall instead of snapping out of it. Fuck you, though. Fuck these feelings. How do I fucking deal with it. Oh, fuck you. I can't quit my job yet. Fuck you. How the fuck do I deal with these feelings? Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck me. I am so fucked.

I miss you. Every 12 noon I wish your ride had to send you to work more than an hour early just like that one time, and I get disappointed when they don't. I miss you even more when I'm extra tired, which I am today. I wish I was sipping my caramel cold foam with you in front of me right now at Wendy's. I miss you. The best conversations I've had this year was with you, and when I look back to them, I just miss you. I miss you, man. I've made peace with the fact that you don't feel such intense feelings towards me the same way I do towards you. And it's fine, really. But good fucking gracious, I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts. It's heavy. I wish to see you and talk to you and be with you. I think of you nonstop. I miss you. I will not return your sweater. I fear this missing will become so much more overwhelming if I do. Please don't ask for it back. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you, [deleted]. I don't understand why. I just miss you.

20th of November 2025.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid little fucking me, for still thinking there is a chance for us. Stupid brain, stupid heart, stupid legs for walking towards wherever you are. Stupid mouth for being uncontrollable around you. I just want to talk to you every single time I have the chance. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. Why can't I mandate myself to just stop? Stop hoping, stop yearning, stop wanting, fucking stop. It is all pointless. You will never cater to me. I will never matter to you in that way. You have subtly made it clear. But was it ever clear if it was subtle? I keep grasping at fucking straws, tiny fucking clues that lead to you possibly wanting more out of me. I need you to want me so bad you cannot control yourself. I need you to want me like I need you. I need you so fucking bad it hurts. I need you, I need you, I need you. Oh, fuck you. What's with all that confession? What's with everything? Fuck. It's all in my fucking head. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I have no reason to be mad at you. Of course, it's in my fucking head. Fuck me. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. It's worse to think you don't even want me sexually to ask me to fuck. 'Cause I would say yes in an instant. I just want more of you. I am so willing to give you more of me. If only you want. Please. Fuck.

I would proceed to lie that I'm completely fine with being friends, like I'm not turning myself inside out getting over you while we also get closer—while you do things for me like lending me your sweater and telling me I wore it better. I would tell you I don't want to be in a relationship, which is true, but if it's you I wouldn't mind. Wrong; I'd love to be in one if it's with you. Say you still want me and I'd give in. Say you want me more now that we're closer and you automatically have all of me. I will love you in the way you wanted to be loved if you'd let me. You already consume my every waking thought but I would willingly be consumed all the more if you'd let me. And I wish you would. I don't care if it's inevitable that it could end. I already know that. I am someone who will always be moving places and I know you have dreams. One day, we might never meet again. I wish you'd give us a chance. I will do everything in my power to not make it feel like you're wasting your time. I can love you the way you want. If you'd let me.

There's a reason why we only got to know each other when you had someone. We're never meant to connect with each other in that way. But if that's the case, what's up with all that you told me? I can't be that crazy. I know I'm not being too far-fetched. I know I'm not being entirely unreasonable and deluded. You gave me hope. You made me think there was a chance, because in no way you would say all that to me. Am I being selfish? Am I being purposefully dense? I do get that you were going through shit, or you were busy, but god, even if I was busy, it would take me seconds to respond. What doesn't make sense to me was how you could reach out to someone so easily while leaving me on delivered for more than a day. It seems like I am not that important, and I get it. We've had two real conversations in total; how could I mean that much to you? I guess what I couldn't fully comprehend is my own desire. How can it be this much? It's forreal too much that it's overwhelming me very terribly. I feel so fucking doomed. I cannot stop thinking about you. I want to watch your favorite movies, your favorite shows. But I might be wasting time. But god, where do I place all this desire? It is burning me. I cannot take it. I want it to dissipate so badly. Because such thirst not being quenched is fucking suffering. Such suffering I can no longer take. I cannot live like this. Please, whoever's up there, take this fuckass desire away. I am done with it. I am so fucking done. It is consuming me and unless she lets me consume her and she consumes me it's not going to stop taking over my system. Take it away, take it away.

7th of November 2025.

This isn't good anymore. I need to stop fooling myself. I've deluded myself too much thinking I stand a chance but the answer is very clear. If she likes me still, I wouldn't be this confused. And I think I'm also obsessing too much over her and it's unhealthy as fuck.

I am done being consumed by you. You want a boyfriend more than a girlfriend, I see that now. You have an insane case of avoidant issues and I cannot deal with that. We may be a lot similar but I also can't help but feel the gap in our frequencies when I talk to you. Now that you have known me, now that I have bared myself to you when I was wasted, now that you've learned about how much of a fucking insecure and loser I actually am; you don't want me that way anymore. And I have to make peace with that. Your crush that you claimed you had on me was not as massive as the one I do for you. I might just be an eye candy to you. I doubt you were ever sexually attracted to me. Thank you for being nice, at least. And oh, that hang out. I will not follow up like a fucking idiot. I've told you to update me when you're finally free, but I am already making peace with the possibility that you might never bring it up again, because why the fuck would you? Everything you've ever said to me was for niceties. Nothing else. Nothing more. And I am trying to make peace with that. Until then, I'll keep writing about you here. Fucking embarrassing.

You make me excruciatingly confused. You tell me you miss me already just right after a conversation and remind me to text you but when I do, it takes you long to respond. Long enough to make me think I almost never cross your mind. Like I'm a thought that you'd only notice lingering in your head when there's barely anything else there. The way you hover in my head is like a constant ringing doorbell that I couldn't muffle away for the life of me. I look forward to your texts a housewife from the 1600's (or maybe much former times) would, waiting for the letter of her spouse in a war. I know you just came from a breakup. I shouldn't demand much of you as merely a friend. I feel selfish for all the feelings I feel for you and while it's nice to have all this admiration for you, it also fucking hurts. I wish I could be completely okay with the thought of all these being unreciprocated, but wow, it is disquieting. It's heavy and burning and I feel as though my body is on fire and on ice at the same time. I am withering of thirst from the lack of you paired with my desire and growing sick from the cold of being oh so lonely and no matter how I try to fight it with hanging out with other people (ones I don't particularly like) I cannot get rid of specifically wanting you. I can be beside you and not do anything and I feel like it will be one of the best hangouts I've had this year, if not the best. Why, why, why. Why must I yearn for you this way. Why does it have to be you? Why are you just so wonderful? Why are your flaws endearing?

Today, I didn't check your schedule in the work app for the first time in so long. Also today, I almost called out because I didn't want to work an 11-8 shift. And thank the fuck god I didn't (for both). I was surprised to see you on my second 15 because I never saw you even once prior to that and so I fully believed you were off today. And thank the fuck god you weren't. And thank you for saying hi to me. I had the courage to start a conversation because of that. Thank you for that entire talk, oh god. I can't believe I was so nervous to talk to you for nothing. But then, I also believe this was all set to happen. Like I am actually glad we only got to talk like that now (I wasn't so fluent before I fear I would've misspoken so much, though I don't think you would mind). When I thought there was no longer hope for me like AT ALL, tonight happened. Less than an hour of conversation yet I will be thinking about it for the whole week. I actually like you a lot. It was so nice to observe you up close. You were so beautiful. :)