Poker Face

Saturday, July 18, 2020

"What's up?"

The usual. 

"What are you upto?"

You know, same old.

"Such as?"


"Reading what?"

Reading into your non-commital ass and the commitment you have towards this and us. Do you think I am not noticing this? I know exactly what's going on here. You're trying to play the field and gauge if I'm pissed at you or something else and I'm doing a great job at deflecting cause what can we even achieve by having a conversation? Both of us are on the same page; on how exits should be quiet and painless and very nonchalant. Yet, here we are. I'm hurting and you can see it why but neither of us will broach a conversation and instead make small talk. Is this not reading enough? No wait, this is banality or an observation. Overthinking, rotting of us, and the demise of our ideas together. Should this not be read by you and me? I don't think you're a subscriber to this. Why should you? You don't owe "me" or "this" anything. Nobody does, that's the beauty of it. 

You'd much rather go back to the mediocre book you're reading, the one I enquired about in great detail, and put an effort into learning more about the subject. That's the thing about knowing you've fallen for someone. You put in the effort. You want to take that next step and that's what I've not felt. I know you're reluctant and while it's justified, it's not okay for me to fucking wait and see you be ready sometime in the future, perhaps for someone else, so I'd like an exit now. 

Yeah, just some crap. You know. 

(Title reference; track of the day.)

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