It’s a fitting nickname for you, don’t you think? Because after all, that’s what you are. Just a stranger I accidentally met.
But we had fun, oh we did. Well at least I did, but I’m going to go ahead and assume that you feel the same anyway. Because I know I was being a good companion back then. Hell, I really did, for I let loose and had a real fun – which doesn’t happen quite often. And it’s an even rarer occurrence considering that you were just…a stranger. But yeah, point is I was in a good mood and giddy and you caught me at one of my bests, really. So I’ll assume that you had a good time with me.
Thing is, stranger, I’m sort of an addict. I’m easily hooked on feeling comfortable around someone. And you qualify, after the short run-in. It’s not everyday that I got to meet someone like you, who caught me off guard and make me feel fine with that.
(Plus, you’re adorable. And I’m a sucker for adorable things. Why’d you have to be so cute, anyway? Not fair, stranger, not fair)
It’s kind of a given then, that I crave to hang out with you again. It has sort of become my current addiction – as strange as that sounds. Think of it as a little kid with a new toy, eager to play and tinker with this new interesting figurine, reluctant to part with it because she’s not done having fun yet. Well that sort of how I feel about hanging out with you, stranger. That day went by far too fast for my liking. I haven’t had enough, and so I want more.
Seriously, I do crave for it. You were like a nice breather when things got a bit too suffocating. You made me relaxed and allow me to recharge myself. You were okay when I had a slip up and told you something that most people would go “wtf? that’s not right” about – you even joked about it good-naturedly. Your boundaries appeared to be as fluid as mine – or at least it’s not as rigid as others’. You were also nice and you know I’m clueless on how to defend against kindness.
But you were being an asshole on the wrong time and when I was not in the right mood.
And it was such a shame, stranger, because I was seeing you in such a nice light. Things hadn’t going on the way I wanted it to be and I was expecting that you would help me relieved some of that stress. You ended up as another addition that list of “what went wrong” which irked me to no end. It’s the expectation kills, possibly, but don’t blame me because truly, I expected better than you, stranger.
But maybe it was my fault, for expecting friendship (and yes, it is friendship that I want, though I wouldn’t opted out of more) from a stranger.
Still, it was a turn off and you got me sobering up. So I suppose this is goodbye, at least for now.
See you in the next relapse, stranger.
À la mort,