sprout

I had a crush on her before I knew I could crush on girls but apparently she did because she wrote me a poem and it was more physical than I expected I guess - it was about lovers - and maybe that scared little-me but in any case I guess my chemicals had already decided she'd never like me as I was which was sad because maybe I could have been there for her and she could have been there for me but we weren't really in an explicit way and then when it all came out at the end we were both hurt because we realised we weren't as close as we thought and that always hurts and also it hurt me because I thought I was there for her but I guess she didn't feel that way and that made me sad and angry at myself and I felt like I'd failed her. And I miss her like I missed her birthday last week, and I hope that doesn't mean a lot to her because birthdays don't mean anything to me, and I forget they mean heaps and heaps to some people (also I deleted facebook). And I still have the poem because I scrapbooked it and in the corner of the page I wrote wo bu xiang shi qu ni (but in characters, because I used to know the characters, and I'd read it in a book I liked) and I believed it and I believe it but now I can go for months without thinking about her. So I named my new sprout after her, because she was Sprout when I knew her, and she reminds me of beautiful things, and bright things, and I miss her: and when you're losing someone you have to invent ways in your head to make them feel closer.