You simply never cared about me from the start.

I feel that way, but then there were so many signs that you cared about me more than you should have.

Probably my last memory of you will be you looking at me the same way a deer looks into the headlights of a car close enough to plow into it. If ever there was behavior that screamed, “I’m not at all interested in her. I swear,” it was your behavior at a June gathering.

I thought I caught glimpses of you looking my way trying to get my attention. I decided that if you were going to treat me like shit and not speak to me while trying to hide the fact that you really did want to speak to me, then you didn’t deserve for me to pay you any mind.

When I went to thank you for having us all there and you didn’t say a word, while still looking at me, I knew you were scared of a person who is not scary, one who thinks she’s in control. Well, that was my little test. You both miserably failed: she thought she was controlling me and I was laughing inside; her reaction was so predictable. After all, this was a function concerning professional connections and professional relationships. It speaks a whole lot of bad stuff about her, if it was she controlling who you spoke with. She knew me from the moment I said my name (my roommate saw her expression as well), just exactly, why is that?

I knew things would come to a head at that gathering. I just wish you would have chosen to talk to me and explain things. I was actually going to ask you a weird question. Since the first time I saw your name, it felt very familiar. I almost feel as if we met way back in the 90’s in Tampa. Maybe you were on Spring break with some buddies. I have a memory that would match up with that and your approximate age. I’m thinking 1991-92. It’s a memory that includes some guys from your undergrad school. It’s just weird. It would explain a lot of things if it was reality. Not sure it is, but it would be something.

Just wanted you to know:

You fixed one part of my body, and broke my heart into a thousand pieces.

If you ever grow the courage to talk to me, apologize and explain things, I’d listen, but I’m not holding my breath.

I feel as though something that could have been really good ended horribly.

You could still fix it.