I met William a few months ago. For a while I questioned if he was worth giving a name since I never had the desire to write about him. But now I am writing so that his name wasn't one wasted.
He and I weren't really friends for very long. It was apparent from the beginning that we both saw more in one another than that.
In the beginning we couldn't get enough of one another. Well, I couldn't get enough of him. After a period of time, William realized that I was seriously interested in him. After this I then became the needy one. Now it's not that I was needy in a bad way, but I was needy in the way that made him feel in control.
For the longest period of time he refused to talk on the phone. He was trying to build curiosity. He was building up my excitement. And for what? To let me down.
Every morning for the past few months I would text him before I went to school, and work. I would always clue him in on what I was up to. He did that less and less. It turned into me texting him all the time. I was always desperate to try and keep his interest in any kind of conversation.
Some time passed still and I went silent. Things had only gotten worse.
At one point I asked him why he talked to other boys. He seemed confused. I questioned why he called other boys baby online and flirted with them out in the open. He then denied it. He began to question my fidelity which was perplexing to me. He would ask why people like Alejandro are posting on my wall. He knew full well that I thought Alejandro was obnoxious, along with all the others he accused me of being interested in.
Now that we don't talk, he only flirts harder. He only shows more interest. I knew I was an afterthought. I knew no one would ever genuinely put me first.
William said that when I text him first in the morning it made him feel like he was being thought of. I thought to myself, I never get texted first. It pained me to know that I wasn't being thought of. It didn't make him feel thought of, it made him feel powerful.
I confided so much in William. I told him so much, I let him in on things that I felt uncomfortable sharing. He wouldn't even show me his new haircut. That's how little he trusted me.
When these many feelings collided, it started a series of arguments. The only way I could get his attention was to be rude and confuse him with my expansive vocabulary to which his was inferior. From there I would take my time carefully explaining his contradictions, and how I felt. He never saw my point. He never once said he understood nor did he admit to being wrong.
Every argument ended with: "I don't wanna do this any more."
I didn't know how he felt then, and I don't know how he feels now. He's a sealed envelop that's lost in the mail. Some letters take some time to come around, and others never do.
