Happy Valentines day.
Although I’ve written you long DMs, and poetry, and left you cute one liners in your comments, I’m not actually looking forward to ever seeing you again. I’ll tell you why. When I met you, I thought you were awesome. I felt that all the time we spent together at Katie's party was special (even if I did end up fucking someone else later that night). You haunted me for days and when I saw you again I realized why. You were my soulmate, even if I do hate that word. But I’ve learned that soulmates are a little bit like siblings, you know? Just because you’re connected doesn’t mean that you have to actually hang out… ever. Sure, like any couple, when we were apart the romance grew. But that’s the only time it grew. I tried to make it happen… I really tried… until I realized that I shouldn’t be trying. I’ll tell you when everything changed. It was when you let it slip that you were passionate about nothing. You were probably even joking, but soon I started seeing the signs of an embeded truth in that casual humor. For some people ‘lack of passion’ is not a deal breaker. And it’s not like I’m this hopeless romantic that needs for all of your actions to be like a ’slow-dance’ with life, but... it would be nice. Instead, you leech off my joie-de-vivre and you tell my stories to your friends like they’re your own. While you were hand-crafting those pretty little stickers with the word “GAS” written on them and sticking them on the red plastic canisters, I was the one supplying the actual fuel to this ridiculous non-relationship. Oh, and I almost considered enduring just a little more of it after I saw a sudden rise in my creative output. You were making me feel and that’s always addictive to creative people (the rest of us). But the emptiness ended up causing me to start repeating myself and it started hurting my art. That’s why, at the risk of having to stare at a blank canvas for the rest of my life, I’m ready to wish you farewell. Happy Valentines day.