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[personal profile] auberginedreams
this isn't really gonna be bittersweet like the bertolt brecht poem that the title is from, just warning you (it's mostly bitter).

a few months ago, i found myself at school one night for band rehearsal. he was conducting and i was in the first row. this was still in the ohmygodhowareyoureal stage of my crush on him (i fall hard and like passionately but fall out of like just as easily), so naturally i was still having trouble forming complete sentences around him. oh and by the way, he's my age. in case there was any confusion about that because of the conducting thing. anyway, to my nervous brain's complete horror and my heart's delight, he kept talking to me throughout rehearsal. to say i made a fool of myself is an understatement. every single chance i had to say something mildly interesting or intelligent, i fucked it up. one time, he thought i was raising my hand so he called on me, but instead of saying "i didn't have a question, sorry" i literally just stared at him, deer in the headlights style, and slowly turned tomato red under his gaze. fuck. i left that night feeling like i had absolutely obliterated any slight chance i had of making him like me. ran it over with a steamroller and then nuked it. i got out of there as fast as i possibly could and outside into the crisp night air. finally out of the bright lights, stuffy air and public humiliation, i leaned against the wall and cried. i cried because no matter where i am, i always fuck it up. how could i be so stupid, to think that 2,000 miles and a fresh start would make my imperfections go away. i thought i had found him. well, turns out i was totally wrong but at the time i thought we could have been something special. i hated that i couldn't change. i hated that all my flaws didn't just disappear because nobody knew about them here. but at the same time, i don't want to go back. chicago knows worse things about me. sadly, i'll probably never be able to ditch my flaws, no matter how far i travel. i guess i'll just have to live with it.
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August 2016

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