hatin’ on you

Hatin’ on you comes so easy. It’s as if you want me not to care. You tell me I should be a bitch to you like I’m a bitch to everyone else. Do you do this intentionally? You coward. You piece of crap. Bullying me…when no one else would even dare. You want me not to care. You want me to brush you off like the lint that you are. Lint.

Is it a defense mechanism? for you to tell me how I’m different. strange. weird. eccentric. huh? I am? How bout…”you’re special.” “one of a kind” “priceless”. I know I am. You know I am. But the only way you can put it into words is by putting me down?

Why don’t you share your struggles with someone else, huh? Cuz they don’t care? Or all they can offer is an “aww” and a frown? Is that what you want from me? It seems you do. I’ll try. It just doesn’t come easy to me to be so ruthless with you. It’s not like I’ve ever succeeded. But I can try. I know it’s what you deserve. And in life, we should all get what we deserve.

So, if I stripped you of my sweet sentiment and indescribable quality of affection and attention…would you be happier? Let’s face it. You cry when I tell you I’m walking away. But it’s best for me. Don’t you see that? Of course you do. But you always want what is best for you.

So why am I talking in circles? Telling myself things that I should have learned years ago. Why am I struggling with this? You’re a PRICK. You are the prick. Telling me the other guys who walk in and out of my life are pricks. When all the while you are El Pricko Grande. Hah! You wrote the book on Prickism. You are the creator of Prickery.

Hey Prickster! It’s still hard for me to say it but I really think you need to go and live your life with the bogus boys and bimbos of the world. The bogus boys you claim are your friends and the useless bimbos you fill up your time with. They are not quality. Do you see that?

I KNOW I’m the most valuable person in your life. You probably do too. But since your actions don’t display that, your knowledge is ineffective, uninfluential, and USELESS.

So, put that knowledge into action and prove to me that I am what I know I am to you. Otherwise, you’re going to lose me. And you’re gonna lose me fast.










poesy of old

I wished you could die and leave me to live
But mostly hoping you could justify my desire to forgive
Wishing you cared enough to give me one stupid reason
But now I see you are a mere boy who changes with the seasons

As my emotions persist but my feelings subside
I won’t say I love you but I honestly try
Wishing it was real and hoping it was pure
But rotten is rotten and through it, evil ensues

I know I deserve this because I know how much I tried
Fighting a battle where my emotions suffered but my character thrived
I want to believe that you gave it all that you would
But every damn day I wished to forget you but it’s not like I could

Years of divine passion scorched to the root
Absorbing my sensitivity in the core of your heart
Killing my innate desire for anyone else
Stealing my best years, leaving me a mess

Years pass and I still stand before you,
Less and less bare, but still by your window
Vulnerably destroying a tie that God himself could not sever
Constantly wishing you away so I could banish you forever

You coddle me with sentiment, grasping me, tighter and tighter
Enveloping your pride around my fake laughter
Considering a life without me as dull
Selfishly clawing at the mind your thoughts call

You no longer suck the life out of my days
But I look around at all my potential and see it in a haze
You’ve created a role that even you can’t fulfill
You’ve left me to wander alone, all alone still

I see myself here, many years older,
Brighter perhaps but all the more tender
Haunted by a vision a vision of discontent and pain
Through eyes that see you suffer, suffer in vain

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.



It all still feels like a dream and the hardest part for me, aside from seeing her family say goodbye to her, is the thought of never being able to call her again. Picking up my cell phone, dialing the numbers but not hearing her voice. Never walking into Starbucks some night, after the gym, to see her laughing with my Mom…walking to the bar together and thinking…”tea or coffee? you? what are you having? should we eat something? nah, too many calories”…etc etc etc. Then, there’s the way we’d share stuff with each other. How she’d get a gleam in her eye if I told her something juicy about myself. How she’d never judge me b/c I’m sure she’d been there too. The way we’d laugh when my Mom would tell a joke and how she’d cover her mouth and go “Amaaaa!”…The way we’d wave to each other cheerfully, every time she’d drive past my house. The way I’d catch a glimpse of her in my rearview mirror and vice versa and see her bright smile and her enthusiastic wave. The way she’d call me and say “Hiiiiii, ****-n eh”…in her captivating voice. How she’d recite poetry in Armenian. The way she’d say “Lav es?” and move her chin up, and wink, to show me she really wanted to know…especially when she felt I was up to something. That’ll never ever happen again.

As for immortality…I believe that my soul and hers will some day be reunited and we’ll go to Starbucks in heaven and we’ll still laugh and sing. Except, when we go…they’ll never close and we’ll never have to worry about finding a seat…we’ll never have to say goodbye b/c it’ll NEVER end.

I’m not afraid of death. I’m not afraid of ending this life and starting the other. I only feel deeply for the people we leave behind…grieving is for the living. And right now, my grief is mine. She is in heaven. She’s where she’s always wanted to go. Sure she’s missing out on some of the earthly pleasures that she probably looked forward to all her life…but the happiness and joy she’s experiencing is far beyond any joy or peace that I can ever comprehend.

Until I see her again…I’ll miss her.

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…