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Peach Pit by Peach Pit


April 9, 2020- Peach Pit yet again because that’s how life is

            I think the last time I wrote, I was listening to the same song. It invites reflection and longingness, you know? It cannot be helped. But right now, it signifies perhaps the same thing as all the other previous writings with this accompanying melody: a decision.

            After weeks of jumping all over the place of conclusions, I have decided to stop the investment. You know the guy I was telling you I was head-over-heels on? Turns out I am more protective of myself than the promise of something different. The ignoring, the seen-zones, it all feels too familiar and I’d rather leave half-invested than get myself fucked over again…

            It is sad how I have grown this way. To keep myself always in check. To look out for myself. But I guess that’s life, huh? You know, after all that bullshit flutters and the disappointing dead-air that comes after a hum, I was hopeful… But some part of me also believed that nothing good would ever come out of my investments… But hey, mister. I heard your plea loud and clear. I get it. I guess I came out too strong again. Perhaps I am desperate that’s why I appear like it… I was so desperate for security so much that I choked it into nothingness. Fine. Be nothing. Will it so. I should focus on better things, really.

            I blocked him out as a testimony to my loyalty towards safety. Honestly, dude. My ex fucked me up too good. I can’t risk anymore of myself nor waste my time… It’s just sad that you were deep enough to know my depression and my favorite song. But because you kept your side shallow, I had to mimic the intention so at least I got out safer than I should’ve been.

            Will life always be like this? After risks and disappointments, I’ll just decide to crawl back into my shell and wait for another ray of light to disturb my isolation? I romanticize the light too much… Forgive me. I am a romantic, after all.

            I remember a day last week that you had me saying sorry again for being myself. That was one of the worst days I’ve had so far in this lockdown. Can you imagine? You had me in so deep that you made me feel sorry again for being myself. You got me good. But not good enough. Never. I hope I can control myself if ever you reach out again. I am truly tired of playing games with you. Playing adult. Playing mature. Playing uncaring… I’m done participating in this dumb charade of who gets to fall in love first. I have said things I know I shouldn’t have. But of all the years I’ve lived, regardless of where my words take me, I’ve learned to appreciate my quality of avoiding leaving things unsaid. I did have a crush on you. I did appreciate you pushing me to get into my dream job. I did miss speaking to you on the phone. But whether I came off too strong or you have your reasons to ignore me- like you still liking that one girl you dated that I met once- I am just sick of child’s play. This has all been just too much. All that wasted effort, wow. You know, I am pretty daring and bold with keeping my feelings on my sleeves; but man, it sucked having to be ignored with all my cards laid out in front of you. I get the high from being vulnerable, but I am not going to be left feeling stupid. I may have been dumb once, twice, three times… but now I’m just tired. You do you. You do fucking you.

            I’ll be right here. Hopefully not waiting. Hopefully not assuming. Hopefully not hopeful.

            Well… I should get to sleep…

                                                                                                                        -Love always, Gill.

Gill Garcia
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