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----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Remaining unspoken I'm usually pretty damned good at getting people to spill the beans. It's become a habit of mine to find out other people's secrets because I just can't stand not knowing when they make it known that they actually have one. It's like sitting a piece of chocolate cake down in front of me and telling me not to touch it. Yes, I'm nosy, but I'm not a snark. Not publicly anyway. It's hard to gossip when you've got no one to gossip to. Thought I must admit, I do love some good gossip. When you're the loner, you pick up on a lot of things, and that's probably what I miss most about school- listening in on other people. Fights were probably the most popular, but actually more entertaining when witnessed. I've seen only a few of them (three I think), but they're always fun. I still remember watching with the crowd as Jordan rammed some boy's head into the fire extinguisher in middle school. Fucking brutal. So why did I bring this up? Because I'm so frustrated. Amy is an egg I can't crack, only chip away at the shell. I mean, I've gotten people I've just met to confide in me, but not someone I've known for four years. My innocent charm and nonthreatening appearance just won't work against her, and it's so annoying! But unlike squeezing a total stranger for information, this is completely different. I'm suppose to know things about her since I'm her girlfriend, isn't that right? Now some may call be a bit possessive. I won't deny that. But I've picked up on things that have hinted she's the same way. We both want to know where each other's been and who we were with when we're not around each other. Yesterday, I went back and read through some of my old entries, the same with my tangible diary. Things really haven't changed much since 2006. I was still whining and bitching about her and trying to tap into the truth, but never quite getting there. I keep begging, telling her that this relationship isn't moving anywhere. This isn't about whether or not I think she loves me anymore. I know that now, I just want us to talk. Face to face, seriously.
I'm partially to blame. When I'm sitting in front of her, watching those eyes with the distant look in them, I can't bring myself to speak. I abhor that look. I found an entry in my diary about it.
I know more than she thinks I know. All this time I've been playing dumb to let her say it, and all this time she's kept her mouth shut. 10:30 pm - June 12th, 2009 |
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