Hmm. All right. How do I explain this one? Lesse...

I was sitting all innocent like in my little corner today, trying to work on a poem based off "When We're Old Men" by Yellowcard (Go look it up, and you might get an idea of why that was weird). All of a sudden I look up, and BAM, there's my ex-boyfriend. And that is where I got this title.

It was really fucking messed up and awkward. So, I wrote a rant about it. XD

Please don't hate me.

I never meant to hurt you, but you and I could never equal one. It disturbs me that the first thing you ask is "Do you remember me?" How could I forget?

What happened to us? At one point, you made my blood race, but when I see you now, it slows down, a legato speed that makes it impossible for me to think of anything witty to say.

What happened to me? I, the sarcastic, smart-ass writer, out of words? What the hell is wrong here?

My movements are slow and steady, and I don't want to look at you. My chest is burning, not with passion, God no, but with…something? I can't describe: the closest I've felt to this was that single embarrassing event, right before I fainted (although I prefer the term "passed out." I'd rather sound drunk than ditzy. But you should know that.) I feel like crap.

So you hate me now? That's a surprise. I don't believe you, but I then again, I always knew I would bounce back faster than you. Rubber is in my soul.

So you hate me, but I'm still pretty? Same old boy: giving out compliments that I can only fumble with, not knowing how to respond. I'm smiling now, but that doesn't mean anything; like you always said, I am inscrutable. Smiling is just my natural response. If I was thinking normally, I my mind would be fifty miles away, going faster than the Indy 500. But apparently, I'm not normal today.

What is wrong with me? Why is it that I will drag my friend, an innocent passerby just trying to be friendly, into this conversation, just to make this situation a little less awkward? Poor kid, he has no idea what shit he just stepped into. Great: more silence.

Goodbye. This has been wonderfully fucked up, and I'm ashamed to admit that I'm glad to see you leave. We never wanted that before, did we? We didn't want the school year to end, because you would be gone. We didn't want summer to end, because we would be apart. Things sure have changed, haven't they?

I think to myself, have I ever been this overjoyed to see someone's back?, as I sink down back to the bench. The blood is flowing a little faster now, but I'm still in shock. My friend shots me a look, asking "WTF?" without saying a word.

Did I forget to say I'm sorry?

Like I said: Really. Fucking. Weird.