the strange part is, all those Taylor Swift songs make perfect sense now

i got kissed in this dress and i got dumped in this dress.
it was also my first black article of clothing. irony?

here is exactly what i did wrong
(i, and not you, for it was me):

1. i have all these years been not pursuer, not the caught, but Professionally Pursued. and you have been not one who catches but one who Pursues. and there was no work to insert yourself between the cracks of me; you appeared out of the blue as a pinprick of light into what happened at the moment to be black and smashed and scattered. something inside me latched on like a clam, and the answering point inside you shriveled in Obligation.

2. Silence. And the silence drooped because it was not the silence of Mysteriousness, or the silence of Reverence; it was not even the silence of Silence; it was my own silence, looming black and fearful over your cheerfulness like a noxious cloud.

3. in that one night of weakness when i told you all that, when i spilled all my dirty water all over your conscience, i morphed from Enigma to Obligation. THAT was the fatal mistake.

oh, i am resilient. and i am Different. but i am after all a high school girl.

Your affection deflated to the vague empathy one carries for a complete stranger. And so mine hardens and is burred. But one always tends to survive, does one not?