Wrong Questions

I’m excited. I’m ecstatic. I’m overwhelmed. I’m overcome.

“Why do you do this to me? You wanna go to a hooka bar? You never been to a hooka bar? Whaaaaat? You wanna go? We gotta go clubbing and walk The Stars in Hollywood.”

These are the questions that helped bring about a disappointment I should have seen coming. You’re not the same person from high school. Sure even back then you were concerned with things better left for a delinquent. Not that clubbing and hooka is a delinquent affair, but your following words broke my heart.

“Tell em you’ll be with me. I wouldn’t let no one hurt you. You know that.”

Those words are meant to make someone feel safe, cared for, loved and protected. What they did was make me sad because I could hear the message behind them. I knew what they truly meant, what you were involved with and the company you kept. Once your innocence was much like mine. Excited over danger but never really tangled with it. That still stands for at least one of us. I miss who you were. I miss your blissful innocence and harmless meddling with danger, until is became a stressing reality that follows you everywhere.

You asked, playfully “oh unless you don’t want to see me?”

At the time I wouldn’t think twice about seeing you. Now? I’m afraid my pull to you will cloud my better judgment.

I don’t. I don’t want to see you. So this time? Stay away. No matter how many times you get the urge to toy with me, no matter how many times I weaken and reach out to you, no matter how bad our “connection” hurls us together.

But let’s be real. I will never see you again. You toy with my feelings and likely get off on making a fool out of me by convincing me that we are meant for each other. I wonder what would have happened to us if you had never moved away.

Where would we be now? Would the innocence have remained? Were we really meant for each other? Would I have done anything for you now as I would have back then?

Wrong questions.

Truly Yours, Jona Constantine

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