Paint Job

I passed by your car the other night

getting lost in town, 

looking for parking,

and I had this sudden urge to just kind of 

well

key your car

But the crazy thing is,

You did nothing wrong

to actually deserve that

I wrote so many pages about you it's ridiculous.

How do I make a concise summary of all the sludge that came to pass?

So many zingers I want to deliver,

mixed in with personal details, which I'm hesitant to share

I like to think of you as a waste of my time

But perhaps I was more a waste of yours

And I take great pleasure in the fact that I let you down:

    disappointed you:

    wasted your time.

Because if I disappointed you

    by being overly available

    and then savagely cutting you out

There's a chance I made you feel something.

It would make me feel very justified 

if I put a very small tear in your equally small heart

You're one of those wanderers who is truly lost.

All you know is that Cool is the thing to be.

And what even is cool?

When I looked at you, I saw a purpose for myself.

To stick around and help you grow - to help you

while you deconstruct yourself 

    wipe your slate clean

    and recreate yourself

        - even find yourself.

That was not my purpose,

       I see in retrospect:

my purpose was to realize you have no desire to grow,

and then get out.

Even the most average of things is destined to reach its end

You know what?

I don't even like you anymore

    If I ever liked you.

I actually miss your fluffy bed

    and your cuddle couch

    and your record-shaped coasters

More than I miss you.

---And I suspect it's the same for you.

after all, you liked fingering my fucking legging side pockets

more than you liked fucking me.

I bet you think about those side pockets.

I often question whether you are human at all

It would've been nice to know you cried over me

--at least once

But without asking I already know you didn't

It's not your fault your emotions are small and manageable.

       It just happened to you

        It's really quite tragic.

You will never feel strongly of anything

        attachment

        possession

        jealousy

        ecstasy

        ...love

Maybe something challenging will happen to you someday -

Something more challenging than a big scratch on your vintage car's paint job

I pray something like that will happen

Just out of hope that it will help you grow up,

Into the man you're pretending to be right now.

I actually told you I love you

Which is kind of embarrassing now

Except that I should never be embarrassed that I feel so deeply

Unlike you

I cried over you five too many times

And objectively, one time would've been too many

I don't think it was ever love,

it was just that subtle rush

that came from kissing you in the swimming pool

that one night

alone

under the leaves

under the sky

All told,

Losing you

Kicking you to the curb

turned out not to be as hard as I thought.

I spent months anxiously trying to be into you

---and ultimately failed

It was so easy to get over you ---

But impossible to forget the ridiculousness of it all.