A Confession

It comes to mind ever so often as to why she didn’t call. She said would, whenever she had nothing to do that lunch time, or any day she was free to have lunch. But since almost three weeks have past, it seems to me that she doesn’t really care much about the outing as much as I do, for it was then when I would have told her. Or was it because of my attitude that my body came first and then friends. I must confess, I am a mental about bodybuilding, nutrition, and the lot. I’ve heard she loves guys who are ripped to shreds. But I pump that iron because I love the feeling, and in no way or how was to try to influence another in trying to seduce me. People get impressed if they so feel so the right to do so. I honestly don’t know what to say, other than the fact that I know I will leave without saying goodbye to most of my peers here. I’ll miss them all, but most of all, I’ll miss her. I’ve walked her home on numerous occasions, and it just seemed that she wanted to know that someone was there with her, like all those other times, when she was partying, drinking, smoking, and what ever else she may have fancied, for times I wasn’t there. She just never took notice. But whenever we met, she always had her sister there with her, and asked her to leave, but why? Did she not want any affiliation made with me and her? Not any slight gestures to be seen between me and her to give others any indication? But there were none…. So what was the point? Why do I still love her? Why do I stare down at my cell phone every now and then to see if I had received a text, missed a call, or if she was calling. I just will never understand some. And it is for this reason I remain exclusively elusive, and pay almost no attention to any other. I will notice them, but reluctantly refuse to massage their ego. And so it is said, I will be that other man who will just never have one. I will always be that bachelor with high standards, with dignity, elusiveness, and most of all, class. It is class over greed, dignity over temptations, which will almost always have the hardest of times to prevail. What more can be said is that if any of this were true I would stop writing this and end by saying: true love hurts.