to pants

(gonna break one of my personal rules here and use the word "should")
dear pants, you shouldn't let me write you facebook messages just because you feel guilty that I fell in love with you. I wrote to say "I keep hoping one day I'll go to look at your profile and you'll have unfriended me" because it might mean I'm free from you. but i'm not right now. I can't and will never have you but I still hold you in the back of my brain. I keep you in the shadows for when I'm particularly vulnerable and need to pine after something that literally can never happen.
it's the grandest of notions. I loved you for who the fuck knows why, and you played the part of my abuser because that's what I was expecting. you wanted sex, and I gave it, but I accidentally let the rest of me slip too.
I wish you'd let me be closer to you. we would sit at the foot of your bed and you'd tell me that you couldn't let me into your social circle. I would never be on the inside. and ever since you told me that, I have been flinging myself onto that barrier in one way or another.
I loved riding my bike to your place at 2am so I could whip you physically while you emotionally restrained me. I liked how secretive it felt, like I was something you didn't want anyone else to know about. at the same time, I wanted you to acknowledge to anyone that there was something going on between us. and that night you vaguely compared me to previous girlfriends, I had no idea what to think. I don't know what happened.
maybe I was too crazy for you, like I've been too crazy for so many others. I fucking knew there was more going on than you let on now. you called me beautiful once and apologized at the face I made. you were a Providence legend and I am a star-fucker and when I found out you were someone else altogether, it was too late for me. but who was I to you?
you were looking for someone to fuck and I looked good.
I needed to feel like someone wanted me, in any way.
I mean, didn't we both technically get what we wanted?