I’m not sure what you want from me.
Last time I was in NY, you deleted me off of your Facebook and I remember the exact moment; how I was at a McDonald’s, how my stomach dropped, how I stared at my phone screen in disbelief. That week, you lived in my head. After that, you disappeared off of all of your social networks, but you didn’t completely disappear from my life as I kept hearing about how you were still talking unnecessary trash about me to anyone who would listen. Meanwhile, I found someone else at USC and forgot all about you.
I’m not in a relationship anymore, and I admit I thought about you from time to time. I told myself that if you ever reached out to me again, I would be happy to be cordial. Maybe you could finally be normal with me. No weird sexual tension between us, no bipolar attacks towards me. Just maybe normal friends with no opportunity for you to screw me over like you did twice before. No room for history to repeat itself.
But when I actually received that text from you while I was in NY this time around, I don’t know.