He keeps calling.
I tell myself...remember how he made you feel. Remember those cold eyes, heartless glare, as he just walked away when you were trying to talk to him.
He left me speechless. I couldn't even think of anything rude or cunning to yell at his back. I was amazed at his insensitivity.
His messages sound like he's crying now. The first was like... Liz...hey...um, I miss you..please call me? ..I want to see you a lot... call me?
I got off work early...
call me?
There have been so many. My 'received calls' list contains only his number- which I have now saved as "The Jerk", and have assigned a vibrating ringer to at the moment...but I might change it to silent when I go to sleep.
His very last message was sad to hear. Unlike the many others, it was very short.
".. ..so you're not going to talk to me now..?"
and there were some sniffle sounds then he hung up.
A wave of sadness and confusion ripped through me. If I mean that much to him, to get maybe ten messages in one day, to get 20, 30, who knows how many calls...then why does he treat me so horribly some of the time? Why can't he just always be nice to me?
And then I think. Why can't I ever be nice to him?
It's a two way street, I'm not innocent.
It kills me to see him calling me, and to press the ignore button, knowing how he feels right now.
But, what about how I feel ever?? What about after he left 4th period, and Hillary saw it all, how rude he was to me.
What about how he never called that night?
What about the next morning, when he just...walked away, uncaring.
I think so many things of him, I can't stop thinking of him.
but I know I can't be with him.

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