imalex's Diaryland Diary

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Now He's My Ghost

I was hoping I'd see Cody at some point this weekend, or at the very least hear from him. He's really terrible at communicating. To the point where I drive myself mad wondering. I could text him, but I'm always texting him. I think in the last month he has only texted me twice, and it's been to ask if I was going out with my friends, who had invited him along. To which I always said yes to, and asked if he was joining? Always no. I got mad at him last weekend because he had slept over on the Monday and I didn't hear from him until the Friday night when I gave in and texted him to find out what his weekend plans were. He told me, and that was that. Said he might join for the hockey game. Which he didn't come to, and didn't both to tell me he wouldn't be joining. So I was pissed. Then Sunday night he texted me to ask if I was going out with the guys, which had been the plan for a week so I said of course. Did he want to come? Nah, too tired. And that was it. That's all he said. So I asked him if I was going to see him at all during the week which he yeah of course, and the next morning he texted me to ask if I wanted him to come over.

I said yes, and he said he'd come over after work around ten. Which annoyed me because I had school in the morning, but I said it was fine because I wanted to see him and talk about things. He showed up when my roommates and I were watching a movie together so we couldn't really talk. An hour into the movie he looks at me and says "I'm tired, can we go to bed?"

I was so frustrated. I didn't answer, just said I had to get my laundry. When I came back upstairs, he had already gone up to my room. I found him in my bed, giggling at his little plan.

"Why did you even both coming over, if you're tired?"

"You seemed upset yesterday."

"Yeah, well, it didn't seem like you wanted to see me."

"You have to understand I'm dedicated to my work."

I went silent. Hung up some of my clothes, and went over to the bed. I didn't want to sleep. Or fool around. I wanted to understand, to know if I mattered at all to him, or if he was just doing all this for my own sake.

"Come on, I'll read you a story." He teased, waving the book he bought me. I melt, I crawl into bed next to him, and he asks me about my week.

I don't know what I want from him. I haven't heard from him since this night, and this time I'm not bothering him. I'll wait for him to decide when he wants to see me next, if at all. And depending on my mood or my plans that day I will tell him how I feel. No more sleepovers, if I won't hear from him for a week. Proper dates only. Proper let's talk, and be cute dates.

I just hate myself. So much. And I don't even know why. Is it the way I let myself feel about all of this? How I spend every fucking free moment agonizing over everything he does or doesn't do? I just hate it all.

But I want it to be good.

10:28 p.m. - 2014-01-18

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