Unrequited, yes?

It's funny how we think we're finished with people when we're not. It seems this happens repeatedly, with every ending relationship, with every ending serial-dater, every boy at the bar, every boy in the office... with every person we meet who makes us smile, who makes our nerves a wreck and our hearts beat furiously... it starts to become a humorous trend.

It's funny how we promise ourselves this chapter has been closed, but then it is re-written about 40 pages later. It might be in a different tone, but it's by the same author, nonetheless.

Often times, we meet someone, they somehow manage to sweep us away within a matter of minutes, and we can't escape the thoughts of them, no matter how long the conversation lasted, no matter how much they felt the connection with us (or didn't), no matter us much we hurt them or they hurt us...

I think my thoughts right now can best be understood in a letter. I will name this letter, An Ode to BSD.


Dear BSD,

What the hell is wrong with you?

No, no. I understand you got a little hurt. I hit your ego a little hard, and since you're a dude, it felt like the biggest blow to your manhood that you could've ever received, and I'm sorry. Really, I am. But seriously, BSD, what is going through your little peanut head right now?

I understand what you're saying. There's a lot of drama going on in your life, you're spread really thin right now (is it possible for you to be any thinner? Let's be honest...), you don't want me to be mad at you. And I'm not mad, BSD. But I think I officially realize how much I don't need your attention, since your attention is the most inconsistent thing I've had to deal with since... well you know. Okay, you don't, but I do... just grasp that he was and still is the most inconsistent human I've ever had to deal with. You are slowly stealing the title. Maybe I should have medals made? You could stand on a pedestal and both wave to your adoring fans who would rather listen to you play guitar and swoon than listen to what you're saying or care about your actions.

Is that what you're looking for, Mr. Musician? Because that is just not my style. Every other boy walking down Bedford can play the guitar... plus I'd prefer a drummer anyway. Yes, I know you can play any instrument put in front of you, and yes, I recognize you're humble about it and I find that... well, extremely tantalizing. However, your band sucks. And I don't like musicians anyway.

Let's get one thing straight, BSD. I don't have time for the flakiness. Alright, I do have time for the flakiness, being unemployed and everything. But I will not make time for the flakiness. It is beginning to interfere with my drinking-buddy hour(s) with Reej every day, and this is becoming a problem. Could you get out of my mind please?

BSD, would you mind not stringing me along this week? Because I'm going to put my foot down and say, I've had enough... I think.

You do have your perks. You're funny. I like that about you. You told me that story about living in South Bronx, and it makes me laugh, repeatedly. You make fun of your mother's Jersey accent... but it's rude to make fun of your mother, BSD. I'm throwing a penalty flag on that one. She raised you, dammit. Also, the simple fact that you're from Jersey is funny enough. It makes me smirk when you refer to your homeland as the "Asshole of America", as opposed to the popular, "Armpit of America."

It's also pretty cute when you make fun of my accent. When you add harsher tones to my vowel sounds than I actually make... when you say "y'all" and ask me if I named all of our family chickens.

I like it when you say you're old, even though you're not.
You should know, you've got nothin' on ole JT. He is, actually, getting old. So I guess you get a one-up on him in that area, but, he is your competition right now, and I should recommend that you step up your game, because you're falling way behind after last weekend.

It's really nice how you made a point to introduce yourself to all of my friends. How you shook their hands and looked them in the eye when you exchanged names. You asked them questions when you had a chance, and seemed genuinely interested in them. Let me tell you something, BSD, these are not people who are easily impressed.

You impressed them.

I don't like how, for some reason, I can't shake you from my thoughts. I don't like how you haunt me, and even if you don't mean to linger, you do. I don't like how when I saw you, and you saw me, I avoided you. I literally ran away from having a conversation with you, in fear that you would, once again, entice me with free drinks, then let me leave and let me down through your lack of actions and words. Do you ever intend to follow through?

I don't like how you didn't chase me down... I don't like how unrealistic I am when it comes to you.

What are you so scared of, BSD?

Don't do this, BSD. Please do not be another guy who is unhealthy for me, who doesn't care about me, who doesn't even really like me. Please don't be mean to me, because I don't think I can handle that again. Please take me out, and hold my hand, and make me laugh. But call me later, let me know you're thinking about me. Let me be as important to you as you could potentially be to me. I can't stand not-knowing with you, just like you can't stand it when I leave. And don't say it doesn't matter, because I know it does. I can tell when I look at you, every time I walk away.

I've never been able to read someones eyes the way I can read yours.

You could have had me, BSD, had you really wanted me. But now, I'm not so sure you were being honest, and all I'm asking for is truth. Truth in every aspect of my life, and right now, specifically you.
So I'm telling you the truth now-- figure out what you want, let me know, or leave me be. Do not tell me three days later what your intentions were... say it then or don't say it at all. Stop trying to work it out, because at this point, you're not helping the situation, you're just hurting it.

Here's the truth from me: I can't stop thinking about you, even when I'm with someone else. Even when you aren't responsive, even when I think I hate you.

Also, I really like musicians. That was a blatant lie.

So, go ahead and shoot me a text when you're done recording today... hopefully we can hang out tonight.

Best,
Meggie


End, an Ode to BSD.

Also, I'd like to end on today on a Buddha thought, via tinybuddha on Twitter...

"If you light a lamp for somebody else it will also brighten your path."


xxM