The anxiousness is numbed by my medication, I have more courage than I used to. The courage to face my fears, the courage to try to ask for a promotion, and now the courage to ask you the building questions in my mind. Since that day you told me you'd "definitely not" tell me what you've been up to... I've been wondering, are you seeing someone? Is there someone in your life and you don't want to tell me about it? But I've been so afraid to ask. I don't want to see your anger the way I did the night I asked you if "the others" had been better than me. Or when I tried to pry into why you had to cancel your speedrun that one day since something "weird" happened. I never want to sink that low again.
It hurts you still won't let me in your life the way I wish you would, but what can I do? I've accepted things the way they are, but still...
I'm so thankful that when I did ask, you didn't show me that anger again . You just laughed and said no, you couldn't even remember what that was about. I told you that ... when you're so weird and vague about what you've been doing, the first thought I'll have is that you're seeing someone. But you still said no. I know that I'm not entitled to know, but... if someone like that happens, I just hope I won't be surprised by it, I told you. That's all I ask at this point. I just ... want to know. I want to know if there's someone in your life, if there's someone I have to accept that you love, that... there's really no room for me in your heart anywhere ever again.
I want to believe you. I want to trust you. Still, a little voice in my head asks me... What if he's lying? Of course he won't tell you... he'll just cover it up so you won't suspect a thing. Why can't I just be rid of such thoughts? It's almost like I have to be omniscient, knowing there's no chance at all for that to be satisfied. Why do I have to be riddled with such doubts all the time?
I want to trust you. That there's really no one. Please don't lie to me, that's all I want at this point. Please let it be the real, honest truth.
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These are the records of certain occurrences and musings in my life. It is probably not of much importance to you, unless you enjoy being a sleuth or have some vague interest in listening to me prattle about my flavour-of-the-month.
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