The Trouble With Danny.

[This is all copy/pasted. I wrote this in an email to a friend that I miss like hell.]

"Okay, bear with me. I already feel stupid about it. And this is long.
(And it's late. So if it doesn't make sense, or sounds stupidly overdramatic, I'm sorry.)

The entire week I was in San Antonio, he would call me every night and constantly text me or try and do whatever it took to reach me. Some times, we would be up until 3am while I hid in my closet, just talking. He cried over the phone once, and told me that yeah, he'd screwed up and done some stuff he really regretted, and I believed him. He told me all the stuff I didn't think I could ever hear, and I loved it.

But then, I got back home.

For the two weeks before last, the only time I talked to him was when I called him - he never showed up for church with us (which is how I know him... Not to sound prissy or anything) and usually, could only talk for a little while at a time. I stopped calling when he wouldn't call back, and kind of got myself over the whole thing. We weren't dating, so it really didn't matter.

Last Sunday, he came up to me and plainly asked me why I never answered my phone. I told him it was because he never called, and he got defensive and started telling me about calling two days before, and then earlier that day. Everyone loves him, so a couple people got on my back about it, and I basically had to explain why I didn't pick up.

And that basically began the whole hellish thing.

Monday, he called three times, but my phone was in Dad's car, and I couldn't get to it until the next day. By then, he was depressed and moody, and I was having to explain why I couldn't answer - because these things are, by default, my fault. By the end of the week, I was purposely ignoring his calls, and he was getting pissed off about it, before I finally got frustrated and told him that he was going to have to take some freaking responsibility for doing the exact same thing to me, and that I wasn't like every other girl; I wasn't constantly attached to my phone at all hours of the day, and hate calling people that I KNOW are going to chew me out.

But apparently, he doesn't get that.
And now he's still kind of tagging along.
And I'm so tired of this whole 'good boy, loved by all' thing he's pulling.
In fact, I'm tired of the entire situation.

And yeah. I know that I should just come out and tell him to back off and that we're not dating (which is another story - he apparently thinks we are now, though he told me we weren't?), and that it's not going to happen. I know, I know, I know. And yep. My stupid fault in the first place. Again, I know.

But. I'm kind of lost."

Because someone wanted to know.