Tuesday, 26 May 2009

• Allow Me To Be Blatantly Honest

   

  For this entry, I am going to take a rest from my regular style of writing, for I believe the only way I can continue with such an attempt as to be completely honest with myself, is if I write thoroughly and properly.

   

  Let me just say, I do not regret having met you. In a cheesy statement, I would say that if I was Kim, you would be my Ron. Pre-prom, of course. You are my closest guy friend, and I love you as such, but I think I need to let go.

   

  I’m not ready to face the crowd of immaturity; I’m not ready to handle the words of others. I have done so, and I will continue to do so, but they sway you, I see they do, and she comes above all others.

   

  Even your pixie.

   

  You’re going to continue to hurt me, and it won’t be long before I watch our friendship fall. The tears I’ve shed over the forthcoming funeral are those based off my own reminiscing, and searching for any possible future has become something of an urban myth.

   

  She is leaving, I know that. I understand you’ll need a shoulder, but I am sorry.

   

  That shoulder cannot be mine.
  
  All those times I’ve lost your shoulder. Where was it? Where was my support when I needed it? Which you know I so rarely do. No, you were too busy talking to her, laughing with her, even though you saw the pain I was in that day, or should I say those days. Specifically. You saw it, and you knew I felt utterly fucked over. You saw I was crying, you saw it all and yet you chose to  ignore me for the girl who’s been making your life a living hell.

   

  You’re through with her? Oh what complete bullshit.

   

  She gives you hell for knowing me, and it influences you. You act strange, and then go back to normal, and so the cycle continues.

   

  This girl may be leaving, but she will be leaving destruction behind.

  Why the dramatics? I don’t know.

   

  I do know one thing though.

   

  We’re from two different schools.

  In other terms, we can agree that it concludes down to two different worlds.

   

  The entirety of the situation is taking a toll on me. A selfish turn on events, I’m sure you’ll agree.
  
  

  I wish she hadn’t learned of my existence.

  I wish no one knew I was a part of your life.

  I wish I hadn’t first met you at that Night Fair.

   

  The strings attached are weakening my own will power to fight this, and a rivaling schools community. I don’t want a team, nor an opposing team. I don’t need this bullshit. I have enough bullshit of my own to deal with.

   

  I don’t want someone I’ve never met, or conversed with, judging me through no words of my own. Making up shit about me that I’ve never heard of until now. I don’t need her friends following her in that same aspect.

   

  And you know what; I certainly don’t need some bitch I’ve never met before, affecting my life.

   

  So I have to say it now, I’m cutting the strings. Whether it’s slowly, or quickly, I don’t deserve this.
  
  Even if I love you as one of my closest friends.

  Even if it is completely masochistic for me to write this, or consider going through with it.

   

  I just know I have to.

   

  This is it.

   

  I’m sorry and goodbye.

   

  P.S. Thanks for the promised phone call; it was sweet and non existent.

   

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