so emotional.

So, there’s this guy. The only guy really. years and years and counting…he’s around. Still around. Stupid me. Not like there haven’t been other guys in between. But truly, he’s always been the only one that mattered. And here we are, years later, an “old habit” some might say. Whatever you call it. He’s here. Is he here to stay? I’d love to know.

So, what is he exactly? An addiction. Yeah, a habit. And why is it that I give people amazing advice? Fine, I am even well known for my romantic advice. Yet when it comes to myself, I still fall into the same trap over and over.

So, who is he exactly? Just a boy. Someone I fell for long, long ago. He fell for me. Then he stopped himself. Then he wisened up and realized I may strangle him in his sleep. My Mother (God bless her!) says he’s afraid he’ll fall for me. Or he was. Who knows? Does it really matter? Of course.

So, aside from the occasional lunch time encounter, we really don’t share much. Oh, except for the daily conversations. The phone calls. The naughty texts. The exchange of information. The legal counsel. The friendship advice. That’s all. Nothing really.


So, why aren’t we together? I’m just a “friend”…ha! A friend. Cuz you act that way with all of your friends, don’t you? Dumbf*ck. So, even I fall for those innocent eyes and that magnetic touch, from time to time. Well, more often than I’d care to admit.

I can’t say I haven’t tried. I’ve tried to get over him. I’ve tried to fall into the arms of others. But when I’ve grown unsatisfied by their lack of intellect, their failure to follow up, their inability to keep up and most of all, their inability to fool me into feeling confident and comfortable…I’ve dropped them. At times, they’ve dropped me. But more than anything, I’ve dumped them. If not officially, emotionally.

That’s really because I have one person I save my emotions for. Everyone else? They get pieces of me. They get bits of me. They get humor. They share time. They get conversation. They are even recipients of that smile that lights up the room. But they don’t get much of my heart. A heart, a broken heart…

They say there’s more room in a broken heart. Well, sure. But does a broken heart have the ability to love…”wholeheartedly”…I think not. Just bits and pieces, here and there. Affection, attention. It’s really all I’m capable of.

But…why complain? So, no one on earth has the power to crush me again. No one on earth has the power to send me sailing to the moon…EVER AGAIN. I’ve been there…and now I’m back. And if he is my be all and end all of emotion…well, at least in terms of the extremes, then so be it.

He is it. He’s done. At least at times like this he is. It’s just so amazing…how sometimes he can still strike a chord with me. It’s amazing how he can affect me.

I wish he’d disappear…and go far far away. Leave me be. Leave me alone. But if I knew he was out living completely, without me…I’d still break down, just a little bit. At least on the inside.

So the man who wins me over someday…hasn’t happened yet. Some say it’s because I’m picky. Others say it’s because I don’t give of myself so completely…but the truth is…I haven’t found someone worthy. The man to sail in and gain the best of me (well, the “best” on paper…not so in “reality”)…that man, he’ll surely get lucky…but he’ll never have all of me.

They say a woman falls in love an average of six times throughout her life. I’ve had my two. I’m on the second. Once at 16…another at 19. And at 27…I’m still here. Where you left me asshole. Alone in my bed. Unclothed. Covered in your MESS.

So…what will happen to me? Where will I end up? No one knows. Who will be the lucky man to win me over?I don’t know. I’ll get emotional, I’ll be ecstatic. But it’ll be temporary. The only one to live within me…all this time…it’s him. And so, I still get emotional baby.

I still suffer over things you’ve long forgotten. I live the pain each time I recall the name of some girl who’s come in and out of your life. I still relive the terror of thinking you’ll be with “her”…and though she is a dead part of your past, my pain remains. It remains…

i did learn something.

as for not learning anything from the experience with him, well…hmm…i’d like to think i learned not to judge people based on their facades…like u can look like a million bucks, but really be the scum of the earth on the inside. i also realized, some people dont change. they are not malleable. like, not all people are seeking personality evolutions… furthermore, i learned that a guy who is a jerk to the world, will sooner or later, be a jerk to you. i also learned that i don’t need a pretentious bastard with a stick up his butt…that i’d rather be happy and satisfied and loved and cared for by someone a bit more humble…and a lil less rude. i also learned that there are some people out there, u just can’t shake. they may acknowledge kindness, care, and/or concern…but they will not accept it. and people like that, they are not our close friends…they maybe our diplomatic social allies…but that’s the closest they’ll ever come. b/c it’s people like you and me who are meant to share our souls, pains, and stuff others would label TMI. everyone needs someone like us…HE found me…but he rejected me too…he’ll always need me (or someone like me)…but he’ll never have it…HIS LOSS, but more importantly, HIS choice. ::shrug::


OH YA…it’s significant to me. It shows that he cared to message. It’s a cruel world we live in. Often, we don’t do anything wrong…we do everything right (and then some) and they fail to acknowledge, reply, or independently search for us. You know how it is. I was really pleased to see his “hey”…uninteresting as it is…it meant something to me.


buh bye

Stop me…if you dare.

For years all I’ve heard is about the plans you make for other people…friends, girls, whatever. The places you go. The things you consider. And time after time, I’ve asked myself…begging to know why it is that you won’t even give me 10% of that…10%. I’d give you my world…yet I’m so conditioned to expect nothing in return. Not even a pathetic lunch date sometimes.

It’s a sad existence…being the girl…who pines after the boy…who will never have her. More importantly, never love her. Not b/c he cant. But he wont. And it’s hard to be the one who listens to the dreams. Who makes her own…knowing they’ll never compare. And so, I won’t share.

Yet I feel like I’ve finally grown up. I feel like we’re so different. We’re both intuitive and expressive when it comes to one another. And so observant and all-knowing when it comes to the ways of the world. That’s perhaps been our bond. But yet…we lead different lifestyles. I’ve realized this, once and for all.

I always admired you for being so secure and effective in enjoying your life, your luxuries, your travels, your youth. I always felt inadequate in comparison…going by…getting thru life without the incredible desire for memorable experiences that you’ve had and grown accustomed to craving.

I felt pathetic, being at your mercy. My every happiness or every despair hanging on you and your treatment of me. No, you never asked for it. But wouldn’t I be far better off having NONE of you than having SOME of you? Sure. You even said…”It’s your decision.” But I’m not that rude or crude or heartless. I can’t do it to you. Yet you’d do it to me…in a heartbeat. I despise you…you know that?

God. I hate you. But anyway…your lifestyle…it’s only now after hearing about the ****, and seeing your pseudo relationship with her…of course, the best friend who also … (of course!)…the connections you acquire, the things you learn. You’re just as gold digging and fake as pathetic little ****… Yet she still has a heart of gold. You…Gosh…what do you have? Someone else’s standards on fabricating your so-called dreams.

I hate you, you pathetic little twit. You arrogant little prick. You selfish jerk.

I know what it is…you always felt like you failed in comparison. Years of not measuring up. (And one day, you decided to become different. To acquire an attitude and passion for life that wasn’t yours…but what you thought it should be. You determined how it would play out. And here you are…years later.

I guess I jumped on board near the date of embarkation…and I’m still here. Watching you. Yet after years of feeling sorry for myself…I finally feel sorry for YOU. For you. For wanting to be who you’re not. To go where you think you should go. To become what you think you should be.

You still get nervous when you try to talk to someone important. Yet when it’s time to reflect…you inflate your chest, you carry your shoulders back and you think you could beat them up with a single glance. Attitude. You’ve acquired attitude and an unwarranted sense of confidence. Eh, it works for you. But you’ll always be you. In your mind you’ll always be struggling to compensate…as opposed to enjoying it for what it is. You’ll always be creating the highs, rather than experiencing them.

That’s the difference between the two of us. I’ve accepted the despair…not as my fate, but as a valuable part of my existence and life experience. You choose not to accept it. But it still exists. And perhaps, you’ll always be empty…b/c you’ll always be in control. You create your destiny. I experience mine. Is one more valuable than the other?


But different?


And so this is me…I like my happiness to take me by surprise. I like my spontaneity to be ::gasp:: spontaneous! I like my sadness to carve out pieces of my soul. I also like it when unexpected joy overflows in that very hollow the sadness leaves.

I love it.

Every minute of it.

With or without you.

And so…this is my word…and though you’ll never see it. You’ll never hear it. You’ll never read it. You may never know it. This is it. It is…what it is. And it is the truth, as I see it:

You’ve deprived me of feeling anything for anyone outside of you…for all these years…and I’m unwilling to accept it any longer. I’m unwilling to tolerate it. It is not longer my fate. I no longer pine after you. I no longer desire you. I no longer love you like I think I do.

From today on…you are that same pathetic 17 year old…the one who hasn’t discovered what he thinks he should be. The one who just is. Like me. Just is. The one who dreams of the stories he’ll tell someday. Who dreams of the places he’ll go. But who hasn’t become devious in realizing he has the power to control it.

You’ve controlled it all, and me…for far too long. And I’m hear to say, I’m taking ME back. I belong to me.


“Your brain intrigues me,” he said…


“It intrigues me too,” she replied, instinctively. All the while, she thought, “A two hour cop out. Two hours of convo and it was all one big cop out…”


Sometimes the resolutions you desire cannot be achieved in harmony with another. Most of the time, it’s something you have to attempt—solo. It’s like, you can start a duet…but if there’s only one pair of hands striking the notes on that piano, the harmony will fall flat upon the listener’s ears…

As we know, chit chat never lasts forever…and thus, he couldn’t bite his lip any longer, “So, let’s talk about the inevitable…”

“Or let’s not,” she blurted out.

Not a moment was lost and he changed the subject. More small talk and he struck a chord. She made note of the ‘awkwardness’ and he reacted humorously… and there it was, another common topic…how naturally the topics flowed. A little bit of history, a little bit of inside significance, a little bit of ‘only you would know what I’m talking about’ and the moments passed.

Finally he said, “I better let you get to bed.”

“I am in bed,” she responded. Within a second, she added, “If you want to go, go…but you don’t have to let me go anywhere.”

“Damn, take it easy,” he said and without skipping a beat, he followed, “I missed talking to you.”

And there it was, she could say, “Me too,” she could say, “I don’t believe you,” (simply for reassurance purposes, of course) but the simplest, rhetorical answer lay in, “Oh ya?” And as rhetorical questions go, no response was required.

She immediately switched into self-analysis mode and apologized for not being herself tonight. He quickly responded, “I haven’t noticed a difference. I never find sides to you. You are always ‘you’ to me. Whether you are angry, upset, happy, or sad…you’re still ‘you’.”

Leaving no room to feel defensive, she added, “My goal in life is to be multi-faceted.”

He turned to her to say, “You will accomplish many goals in your life…I know that.”

He sensed she was being ‘cautious’ and he assured her that there was no reason to be as there were no eggshells to worry about. “If you have something to say, say it. I have no problems,” he said.

Inside, she disagreed. Outside, she wanted to understand…”How can you miss someone when you’re the one who walks away?”

“Missing someone has nothing to do with the circumstance,” he replied.

“Of course it does when you’re the one who’s in control,” she retorted.

“A human being can still feel this emotion, regardless of who is in control,” he argued.

“I disagree,” she said.

He thought for a second and said, “Yes, intentional conduct has created this separation.”

“Intentional conduct, precisely,” she replied.

“That intentional conduct has consequences,” he admitted.

“Obviously it doesn’t for you,” she thought to herself.

“Of those, among others, one is the sense of ‘missing’,” he went on.

It fell on deaf ears as she argued, “You left on your own conditions, yet even tonight, it was I who made the effort to speak to you.”

“Ohhh…you don’t know how many times I have written to you…you will NEVER know!”

“Had you done so, you would have received a heartfelt response—no risks involved. After all, when have I ever, ever treated you the way you DESERVE to be treated? Tell me.”

It wasn’t that she disputed that he’d missed her. No, she didn’t. Of course he’d missed her. She understood that he had to detach for a while. She respected that. What was it? Did she wish she’d had a warning? He knew how she was—her weaknesses, her vulnerabilities. He knew how this would make her feel.

“You had no regard for my emotions,” she said after a long silence.

And immediately, he replied, “You had no regard for mine.”

“Did I anger you? Did I hurt you? Did I disappoint you?” she asked.

“It depends on what point in time you’re talking about,” he answered.

“You disrespected me,” he added, “I felt battered by the end. I always respect your insights and your intelligence—and I’m so very thankful every time you assist me thru your wonderful talents. But a few of your chords just didn’t go with my song.”

“Aaah, you just made me laugh,” she said, feeling that her reaction was a bit out of place.

“Nice to know we still got it…” he responded, “Nice to know we still got it.”

“That’s the problem,” she said, “We’re never gonna lose it!”

He sighed.

She continued, “And this is the precise inspiration for all the horrible things I told you. How could I ever live with myself if I let this type of relationship go, without putting up a fight?”

He stopped to think for a moment or two. “The part you said about how love is supposed to be effortless…and light hearted…I loved that part.”

“Love,” she began, “it’s an intangible connection. Effortless relations. It’s silly. It’s…” she paused, “unconditional. ‘Come as you are…’”

“Come as you are,” he said, reflecting on the simplicity of the phrase, “They should replace the word ‘love’ with that exact term.” “It’s just so meaningful,” he went on, “especially since it’s coming from one of the few people whom I admire…immensely.”

A couple moments of silence passed and he said, “You are the most complex, yet so incredibly simple person I have ever met.” She didn’t want to respond. “You always know how to put the meaning to the song which provides the metaphor to our life together,” he added.

“I didn’t have faith that we would speak again,” she blurted out…out of the blue.

“I felt disrespected,” he repeated.

“And I was hurt,” she replied.

“What’s worse?” she went on to ask.

“There is no worse.”

“There is, of course there is…it’s a different quality of emotion. Disrespect is mental, hurt is emotional…”

“Hurt goes to the state of your being,” he replied, “Hurt is worse.”

“Emotions always trump thoughts,” she stated matter of factly.

“I agree with you,” he said.

She thanked him.

“You coulda fought it,” she blurted out, “You ran away…and that’s why we’re here right now. In fact, I wish you’d told me, ‘Sorry you feel that way, but I love her and this is how it’s going to be…’ Did you think I wouldn’t respect that?”

“I couldn’t say that!” he replied.

“Why not?” she begged.

“For reasons expressed…”

“By, me?” she asked.

“Yes, for reasons expressed…by you.”

“Forgive me,” he added, “I don’t have the notes to your masterpiece tonight.”

“We’ll go acapella tonight,” she said.

“Improv…” he corrected her.

“Ahhh, that’s the word I was looking for,” she admitted.

“We reversed roles, only for a moment,” he replied.

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” she said.

“I don’t,” he responded, “I’m just more in touch with reality.”

An uncomfortable silence prevailed, “Well, don’t think I didn’t miss your presence in my life,” she felt led to say.

“Did you truly feel my absence?” he asked, obviously seeking further reassurance.

“Hmm…you fulfill a role in my life that only you can fill,” she said, ambiguously, mockingly, predictably.

“That’s a beautiful thing to say…yet it’s slightly demented.”

“All I want is a resolution,” she said…”I didn’t wait all this time to feel out our relationship…neither did you…it is what it is—-eternal, perpetual, unchanging.”

“No answer I give you tonight will lead you to a satisfactory state of understanding,” he said, “in fact, you’re opening a duet with just one pair of hands,” he continued.

“I know I can’t force you to speak to me right now…but either way, it’s worth the ‘lost sleep’…at least to me it is,” she replied.

“Ahhh, your brain intrigues me…it simply intrigues me…”

“It intrigues me too…” she said, “it intrigues me too…”

f u

fuck u fuck u fuck u

ok, now that i got that out…sorry ’bout the disrespect…i know how much u “hate” that…and take it ONLY from me (me=the one who is always sweet, cheery, honest, loving, caring, concerned, and self-sacrificing…)

alright…i despise you…i have a million and one reasons to despise you! and i’m finally sick of this cycle…i dont know what’s going to happen this time…seriously tho…i am more than ready to say my final fuck you and bow out…completely…

i’m hurt
i’m angry
i’m sad
i’m depressed
i’m over it

i can’t deal with this cycle
it’s not getting us anywhere
and as long as you desire to hold the power position in this game…i’m going to be a sickly, weak, vulnerable fool (for you)…

a fool who holds on to petty, idealistic–childish dreams…who still believes in destiny…kismet…fate…”meant to be”…

u can walk away…u can search the world, far and wide…u’ll never find ME…and worse that that…u won’t come close to finding someone who’ll make u feel half of what i make you feel…who cares about u…half as much as i do…who loves u…like i do…

u’ve really taken my life and made it this mess…without u in it…i was an innocent, peaceful CHILD…and u’ve taken me and given me this depth of feeling, perception, intuition, understanding…

perhaps a life without feeling is not really ‘living’ at all…but a life that’s only about feeling? what is that? it consumes me to the point of destruction…it’s shattered my vision…it’s shattered my hope…it’s scorched my passion…

i’ll never love someone like i love you

i’ll never care for anyone like i care for you

i’ll never live for anyone the way i live for you

one day, i’ll learn why i wasn’t meant for you…
and someday, you’ll finally see…that i was the one for you

forget me (this one’s for the girls)

I said you could call me if you wanted to. I guess you didn’t want to.

I am tired of talking to you. I’d rather see you.

Why do you expect me to be available to talk to you when you didn’t even think of me all weekend?…When you haven’t asked to see me?…nothing nothing nothing.

All I do is remain kind to you. I’m a doormat. I am always there for you when you want me. The minute I disappear you get antzy. Perhaps you feel this is a game. It’s not. It’s more like self-defense.

Why should I be there for you when it’s convenient for you? When you’re sitting on your ass all day at home and want to talk to me?

What about all the times I’m sitting at home? Bored? Lonely? Wanting to talk to you? What about all those times? Where are you then? OUT? Partying? Spending your time with insignificant people? Spending your time with people who lack substance? While I sit at home? Waiting for you? To what? Call me? Text me? JERK!!

I hate you. Really, I do. You want to talk to me…and I’m there. Do I ever turn you away? It’s not my fault that you don’t know how to appreciate me when I’m available and/or around. Inevitable, convenient, or when I beg. These are the only only, only times you want to see me and talk to me. Inevitable, convenient, or when I beg. ASS! You don’t deserve my kindness, cheerfulness…my love…my sentiment…my care, concern, and emotion.

You are sooooo busy living your life. Having “fun”…(with the losers/bimbo’s/lame asses of the world). But when it comes time for deep thought and consideration…you RUN to me…OLD FAITHFUL…the only person who “understands” the only person who’ll “do.”

Why don’t you run to them? Ya…the losers…the bimbo’s…the lame asses of the WORLD. They’re good enough to have “fun” with…but not good enough to satisfy you when you need depth and feeling. When you want to reflect, analyze and dream. Is that all I’m good for? Boy do I feel used.

You know…you’re not the only one. Lord knows that there are plenty of other people I’d rather reflect, dream, analyze, wonder and worry with. People who will be there, BY MY SIDE, when I need them. Not at some faraway place, like you, having fun WITHOUT ME…but always remaining sure that I’ll be sitting right HERE when you need me.

Perhaps they don’t love me as much…perhaps they haven’t even done 1/10 of what you’ve done for me. Regardless, they’ve never made me feel as unworthy as you have…as unappreciated as you have…as forgotten as you have.

When they ignore…it doesn’t cause sadness for me…it’s a shrug of the shoulders and I move on. When you ignore…it’s a deeper hurt…It’s a pain that cuts deeper than a superficial wound. And like the most painful bruises that radiate from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet…you punch at the same wound over and over (perhaps unintentionally, at times, unknowingly)…and it hurts more and more each time.

This sadness…pain…torment…even the drama…it doesn’t exist with other people…does it??? It’s a problem…”unique to you”…unique to ME and only me (or so you say.) Well…I’m unique…I’m the only me you’ll ever find…the ONLY me…you’ll EVER know. Remember that…embrace that…feel it. And the next time you “let it go”…take a moment, breathe deeply…and attempt to comprehend the value you let slide through your fingers. Know it well…for a single instant, hold on to that MOST valuable person you brush off…ignore…push away…pull away from…avoid…and under-appreciate, devalue, use, abuse, and FORGET. See if it’s a genuine forget…or a temporary one.

Perhaps, when you realize which it is…for me, it will become a genuine sense of forget…and I’ll be able to move on with MY life. You’ll kick yourself one day…you definitely will. I refuse to ask for the satisfaction of experiencing/witnessing/observing your IMMENSE REGRET over losing me, someday–forever. Even in losing me, I choose not to see your pain.

Yup…it’s a sick twisted sense of love…a unique kind…then again, it’s mine…

hate mail. the beginning.

You are hurting me right now. Being unresponsive, not like completely ignoring but being unresponsive, it totally ticks me off. I don’t know who the hell else you’re talking to but you are totally being insensitive to me and disregarding my feelings completely. I hate you for doing this to me. You make me feel so weak—day in and day out. I’m tired of this too. Man, I wish I had the courage to tell you to just FUCK OFF…but I don’t. I’ll miss your pathetic ass.

I really enjoyed all the playfulness we shared over the past couple weeks…it was totally fun and unrealistically sweet and thrilling and exciting all at once. I guess I shoulda realized it was temporary. In fact, I did…but when you’re in the middle of something…the end is really the last thing on your mind.

Anyway…you’re hurting me more and more as I sit here trying to gather the strength to ignore you and be INDIFFERENT. It’s not coming…it’s just not happening…and ya, that makes me sad. It’s humbling but simply sad too.

I dislike you and your character as to these things. How can you be so insensitive? This friendship is based on your selfish convenience. You miss me? When? No, you don’t miss me…just me “being there” so you can talk. You begin to miss me the moment I let go of you…the moment I pull away from you…and I snap back better than ever EACH TIME.

You sure are a lucky bastard…I hate you for that. I hate you so much for that. Let’s see when you’ll *NEED* me next, Asshole. I’ll probably fall again…over and over again…but someday, I’ll hold back and stand tall…then you’ll be the one who’s hurting. I promise you this.


I guess I have this super delayed reaction going on. I’m hurt and angry. We’ve had the conversation where I told you that I feel like, for me, you don’t have to be a “guy.” You don’t have to be charming, sweet, understanding, none of that. However, being so bluntly honest, yet so graciously accepting of the circumstances, is getting to be more and more difficult for me.
I realized that when I look at things YOUR WAY, they always make perfect sense. You are perfectly reasonable. You are ALWAYS sensible. No matter how unfair the situation may seem, or the actions unkind, looking at it from your perspective JUSTIFIES everyfacet of it.
It always comes down to: “Gosh, I can’t believe he just said/did that!”
Followed by, “Well, he said/did it b/c…”
Then, “Of course he is right b/c…”
Finally, “I have no right to be upset.”
I can reason it out just as well as you…and I’ve learned to! When it comes to 90% of my experiences in life, viewing it all through YOUR spectacles helps to sort it all out into right or wrong, black or white…and that’s it, it’s done.
But what about the 10% of life that is rooted in feeling? Emotions? Subjectivity? Passion? What do we do with all of that? Have you ever tried to see things “my way” and said, “Well, I guess she does have a point, and I’ll respect that”? As opposed to, “Well, I guess she does have a point, but I’m still objectively right.”
Most of my experiences with you leave me feeling misunderstood and/or simply unreasonable. You must admit, no matter how we analyze a situation, at the end of the day, the analysis always balances in YOUR favor and we close the book on the event and/or feeling, and we walk away. Yet when are we ever going to strike a balance? Perhaps when we do, that’ll be when we no longer need one another.
Still, it makes me utterly sad to think that you could refer to spending time with me as a “pity hang out.” It leads me to wonder if you’ve EVER had a good time with me. It makes me absolutely angry to think that you could say, “You love me even though I don’t return your phone calls?” and still hear me justify myself for it. Have you ever wondered how I feel at 4 a.m. in the morning when I’m trying to explain to you: “Well, I go through temporary periods of being pissed at you, but then I remember that I reallydo care and I can’t base my feelings on just a temporary feeling…etc.” It kind of sucks to think that someone who hardly cares for me can say, “Jeez, you’re such a pleasant person. There’s no one else I’d rather be kicking it with right now, sharing this time…” Yet, you describe me as the type of person who can’t “just be there without being there.” When you say these things, or view me from that perspective, it makes me feel like,AGAIN, it’s my internal flaw, and MY problem that separates and makes us absolutely incompatible. I always thank you for the way you’ve molded me and my way of thinking. However, I can’t help but wonder, am I failing to see the harm that you have caused as well?
How come I bounce back? Attitude free…cheerful as ever? It’s so tiring. So emotionally tiring to the point where I’ve forgotten why I started this whole “be the better person” lifestyle in the first place. I’m afraid to admit that when it comes to you, it may very well be because I am just scared of losing you. It hurts me to think that the very person I care for, admire, and desire to be like, is so rooted in his method of thinking that he consistently fails at seeing things from my viewpoint. It would be easy to just expect nothing of you and be satisfied with whatever it is you give. Yet then I’d continue to be that occasional clown, that occasional “shoulder,” the occasional sounding board, the reminder, and the “girl,” while you could get away with responding when it’sconvenient, seeking me out when it’s inevitable, showing concern when I literally have to beg it of you…
How do we emerge from this without throwing our hands into the air and chalking it up to another, so-called, “lost cause”? You could probably lead a perfectly satisfying life without me in it. I feel this way because it seems absolutely impossible for you to articulate your reasons for keeping me around. Bottom line, I just don’t know whether this is true or not.
Once again, here it is…this is how I feel. It’s your prerogative (as always) to respond or not to respond. You have to realize, it’s not about the individual experiences with you, rather the cumulative experience that causes me to hurt most of the time. SURE, you don’t need this right now. SURE, you’ll most likely opt not to deal with this. SURE, I’ll have a smile on my face the next time I see you even though there’s really a frown in my heart. But I’m not so sure that you’ll ever, ever understand….