Over You, Or Over It?

"Don't be obscene, I can't conceive of living without you.

You say you drag me down, no one should want you now,
I start to cry, you kiss my eyes and say I'm not allowed to."

About a week ago, I made a decision to stop the chase. I expected it to be easy. All I had to do was not text you or talk to you for a while until we finally lost contact causing me to finally move on. I would give you monotone answers via technology, as to not confuse myself, or even you in where I stand here. But then, the night after my decision, you call to make sure I'm alright. And it all comes flooding back. Hours of hard work destroyed in one "accept" of the call on my mobile.

You tell me constantly to move on. Saying not to waste precious teenage years on you; that I should be out there, messing about and having fun. I mean seriously this is sounding as fucked up as a Twilight novel, with Edward trying to convince Bella to live out the rest of her experiences and all that (yes, I know I just used a Twilight reference - it's sad, but unfortunately fitting). 

But you of all people know that that's all easier said than done. I guess I'll get used to it eventually. But when I finally move on, I wonder: Will it be because I am over you, or just over everything else?

Everyone knows that getting over someone who doesn't have any interest in you at all is the hardest thing to do. Especially when everything you see and do reminds you of said person.

For example, I can't hand out scratchies at Boost, see a certain kind of car, visit the school hall, go to Penno Park, or say sooo many words just because they all remind me of you. So this is: working, going near a road, going to school, walking around my local area, and talking I'm rambling on about here. And you wonder why I can't just drop everything and turn my back on you? Everything I fucking do brings back some memory that my brain is being too stupid to just forget.

And it hurts, knowing that those memories, are now all in vain.

"Waiting a year may do us both some good."

***

I went on a camp this weekend. Well, not really a camp. More a three night hike with about a thousand Venturers (15-17 years)  from all over NSW, plus approximately six hundred Rovers (18+ years), all going to a remote forest, camping and hiking, doing activities and basically just being plain fucked. Personally, I go to Dragon Skin to have fun and meet new people (and catch up with all my other many acquaintances). This event, however, is more renowned for the amount of hook-ups, and sex that goes on between those who are desperate enough to have a one night stand in a cold tent. Maybe it's just because Venturers are mostly made up of horny, social rejects, who - when all put in the same location - feel the need to just mess around. And I know I don't have the cleanest record. And yes, I also feel it's a different thing altogether when you are an official couple on this event. But seriously, how much more desperate can you get?!

It was at Dragon Skin when I met this really attractive guy. And I don't mean your average "yeah he was the hottest out of this small group of people" kind of attractive. He was legit. One hundred percent yum. Tall (with the most gorgeous blue eyes I have ever seen), brown wavy hair, excellent built bod, seventeen (turning eighteen), finished school year twelve, lives on the Northern Beaches. You know, the works. And he went after me. And I was flattered - heck, I pretty much went after him myself. 

But it was after a few hours of nice smalltalk, lame pick-up lines, cute hand holding and subtle touching, when I realised I didn't want this. Nor did I want to become one of those desperate teens who know they can't get it any other way - "so why not with someone who's in the same boat?"

And I realised, that I was still hooked on you, and no way was I going to be making out with this attractive young man, while seeing your face in my mind, feeling your body under my fingertips.

So I turned him down. No joke.

And the funny thing is? I still had a great time on 'Skin; hanging with my women, still acting messed, without the pointless hookups or things that I might have later regretted.

***

I'm sorry, but I'm not going to forget you just yet. But I'm not going to dive at you either. 

Waiting a year may do us both some good - I could become more mature and stop with the tell all blog posts, and you could sort out some priorities that could maybe be shuffled around just a bit. Like living as opposed to constant work. Or at least putting complaining about something you refuse to change to the bottom of your list of things to talk about.

Friends for now, I can probably live with.

"Is there a chance, a fragment of light,
At the end of the tunnel, a reason to fight?
Is there a chance you may change your mind?
Or are we ashes and wine?"