Its been a while since I wrote about you, and that because my feelings have been going up and down. I feel as though I’ve been riding a rollercoaster; and I don’t think it’s going to be stopping anytime soon. And for these past few weeks my head and heart have been furiously trying to win over the other. And for a brief moment, one of them wins. For a brief moment, I couldn’t care less, I become stoic- just like you. But sometimes, the butterflies return. Heat rises to my face and I get so pathetically hurt by every little thing and its killing me.
I’m stupid, I’m pathetic, I’m weird, I’m an idiot, I’m a prick. I know. I’ve been saying those things, and many more, to myself for the past 14 years. I’m familiar with these words, and I thought they wouldn’t affect me, since I myself say those things to myself. But why? Why does it hurt me so bad when they come out of your mouth? Why can’t I register these words as a joke? Why does the mere memory of you uttering those words tear a hole through my chest, suffocate me with thoughts, torture my heart?
You’re the reason I’m still here, breathing, trying my best. You’re the reason why I laugh so hard sometimes, I can barely breathe. Why my smile stretches so wide, my cheeks begin to hurt. My reason for living. It’s you.
But you also make me want to forget everything, to just disappear already. To just stop being such a burden. Sometimes you make me feel like I’m just an annoying, obnoxious, piece of shit. And maybe I am. Maybe you just can’t stand me anymore. Its fine, it happens all the time anyway. Its just that I feel like you are getting tired of me, hating the person I’m becoming. It’s as if you don’t care sometimes, you know. I could be having a mental breakdown and you could be perfectly calm. You couldn’t care less. It’s fine. Right? I wonder how you would react if I killed myself right now… then again, I’d prefer you not caring rather than being sad. I don’t want you to be sad. I don’t want you to feel the same pain that I’ve been feeling for a while now.
I honestly miss the good old days of our friendship. When you didn’t know. When I myself never saw it coming. When we could still be 100% comfortable with each other. I felt like you still cared. You gave me so many compliments, and happy words. And you were the one who told me we are bestfriends. You got hurt when I said “close friends” and you told me that we were “best friends”. And so, I found another reason to live. Until that one summer day that changed everything. Along with us being comfortable with each other. Too comfortable, that is.
I wish you never figured out. I wish you were still the girl that would encourage me to do anything. I wish you never started joking using mean words. I wish you could still be fully comfortable with me.
But as usual, I ruined everything, didn’t I. I’m so sorry. I miss you, so much. I wish I never felt anything. I wish we could stay in the past, where our blissful, innocent friendship made me want to keep on fighting back, live. When it was my one reason that maybe, just maybe, life wasn’t so bad after all.