Yeah, I know (OF) him

I heard his name
I never spoke his name
I saw his face yet never thought anything of it
Couple years go by, I hear it again
He’s a former drug dealer and addict
that is friends with the former class clown
They never made it out of this town

I friended people
and dated guys that are not from
this place
they were from another country
or town miles away

I ask myself why…

The person for me isn’t a junkie
pervert, liar, scrub, or psychopath
that believes I’d date him because
I said, “Hi.”

The person for me is someone that
does something and doesn’t constantly
accuse me of doing something I am not doing
especially on social media which the people
from my town like to do

I ask myself why people here are like that
I remind myself it’s because they have
nothing better to do
I ask myself if I belong here
I say no
I never have and never will
I’ve been disconnected with this place
my entire life

I drive by his house

Not by choice

It is the fastest route to get where I am supposed to be

It saves time, money, and energy

I live in the country

If I were to take to fastest route, I would have to drive in my town

to take the highway

I don’t have the time to search for a different method

It would be a waste of my energy

— he’s not that important

 

If he was that important

He wouldn’t have let me go like that

He didn’t like what I wrote in the final text I sent it

I made it clear what I wanted

He rejected but still wanted to be my ‘friend’

‘Friend’ meant fuck buddy

I decided enough was enough and I shot my mouth off

In a second, he was gone

I haven’t heard from since

 

But I get to see his house

when I drive to that city

That place it all happened

That place I hate with a passion

That place I wish I could erase

from my mind

But I can’t

A year later I got the ‘privilege’ of going back there

to study

(I got accepted in all the schools I applied too.

I just had to pick this one, probably because my mother.)

Not what I wanted

But I had no choice

But to sacrifice enormous amounts of money I don’t have

time, energy, and my well-being

 

For what?

What is the point?

 

So I can re-live what happened

again, again, until I go insane?

Or to put him in his cardboard-box shaped house

where he belongs.

He doesn’t belong with his motor vehicles and cars

He is immobile

He is stuck in that place

I am not

I am driving