You were my favourite "Hello" and my most bitter "Good Bye".
The last day saw us sitting within a near proximity with obvious and deliberate oblivion.
On your part I reckon, at the very least.
I tried in vain to catch your attention, discreet attempts of course, but you were somewhere else.
Your mind was somewhere else.
and so was your heart, I heard.
So who's this new girl?
The biggest issue I have, honestly, is my lack of judgement yet again.
That you belong, along with a huge pool of other male-species, to my definition of "men who lead quiet lives of desperation".
I gathered my data from first hand experiences, secondary data and an inquisitiveness.
You like to throw back one-word replies ("yes", "no", "clubbing", "eat") - but only when I begged for it.
You hardly reply.
You make me panic.
I didn't like that.
Or is it wrong for me to fault the lack of communication between two almost strangers.
I think we could have "clique"-ed.
What stood in the way? My eagerness?
It must have been that way.
It's clear now, I can only be friends with those who don't see me as intimidating.
I might look like the boss, but only because I have yet to meet someone who can be my sparring partner.
I will miss this awkwardness.
