This is My Psychosis
I wore my favorite shirt that day because I was expecting great things. I wanted to believe that somehow, it would be the start of something wonderful. I admit, I could have done better in terms of make up and hairstyle but it did not matter, I was in my best jeans, ballet flats and my favorite Beatles Shirt. It was perfect and the motions of that evening was close to ideal.
I wore my favorite shirt that day you asked me out to dinner. I wore it proud and I wore it because it was comfortable. I was hoping both of us would be comfortable; both of us will have fun and enjoy what we discover with each other. I was banking on this profound moment where I can look at my shirt in the next few days, grinning with giddiness and with a fluttering heart.
I wore my favorite shirt and I even accidentally spilled coke zero on myself but I believe I took it all in stride. It was just an epic part of my ultimate clumsiness and maybe a super tell-tale sign that you were making me nervous. I was worried it would be detrimental but you grinned and laughed it off as we continued onward. You bought me ice cream- twice. I said no but you did not accept that answer. You melted my heart right there and then.
I wore my favorite shirt while you made laugh; you made me self-conscious and you made me feel pretty great. It made me look forward to more days and nights like these with you. I guess all I ever wanted was to make you laugh and take care of you. I wanted to love you and for you to love me too.
But I should have known that wearing my favorite shirt that day would not make any difference. I don’t know what went wrong or what I did because the next few days were hell. Oh, you texted me when I got home. I was thrilled then that you would want to talk to me even after the “dinner” but looking back, maybe you were just being polite; maybe you did not want to act like the usual jerks who takes a girl out and then forgets about her.
We met each other the day after next and that was when things started to get weird.
I do not know what I did to deserve this silent treatment. You see me but you look at me like I am not there. You see past me, without a word or a smile. It’s like we’re strangers- not acquaintances but strangers. There is not a single word from you. Heck, you did not even bother with any explanation. And this hurt me- an ache so great that I don’t think I even want to look at my favorite shirt anymore.
In the first place, I was not the one who initiated any of these. You did. I admit I was the first one who got caught up and started having fancy, girly notions in her head but I would not have any reasons to if you did not give me any. I guess you think it’s all right to just say that you like a girl but you’re just not into her. I can accept that. In fact, I would rather hear that than face this endless silence from you.
I am a grown up. I think I can handle rejection the best way I know how. I will certainly not become a stalker psycho something. If you found out after that dinner that you did not like me as much as you thought, then please have the balls to tell me.
I value respect for people and in this situation, I was hoping I would get enough respect from you because you are that type of person who is kind and a gentleman. It has been exactly a week since I wore my favorite shirt and I still have not gotten any word from you.
You saw me. I saw you.
Nada. Nil. Nothing.
You did not see me. I wasn’t there.
I wish you did not say all those things to me when you did not mean any of it. Perhaps you did at that time but it was fleeting and inconsequential. I wish that you did not ask me out on that dinner if you were just going to treat me this way. I wish I did not wear my favorite shirt and did not have high expectations so that when you leave me hanging in the air with nothing to grasp on to, I would be able to land gracefully with defeat.
But you did and you went over and beyond.
You broke my heart.
Silence is indeed the most deafening sound in this world and without a single sound, it can break even the strongest of hearts.