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It’s not the same and it’ll never be the same. Ever. I told you that I had a hole in my heart from you. You dug yourself in and took a piece of me with you, now it feels like it will never be stitched up and even if someone tries; it will just be a botched job. You can never replace the old with the new it will never hold those memories, those same emotions. It’s so very hard for me now; you’re not worth my time, my thoughts, my breath, my anything. But yet you worm your way in somehow and make yourself at home in the back of my mind. All I have to do is touch something and you pop right back up. I just want to sit down and tear your existence out of my head, but I can’t, it’s not possible not for me. When I try to place what made and still makes you attractive to me, I can never put my finger on it. It was the feelings, it was the sheer moments. It was everything and nothing, a borderline of love and hate. That’s where I stood, sometimes stepping over to love and other times crossing over to hate. But that borderline stole my energy, emotionally. I was drained and I could not deal with all other emotionally consuming events in my life and soon enough I couldn’t go throughout a day where I didn’t think of our fights, our cryptic words in conversations and the doubts that I always had. There was something that just was not right something in disguise hiding from me, taunting me to find it. Just a game of cat and mouse with my feelings. But this is it; this is how I’ll end it. I’ll leave you here in ink and let you wallow in your own demise. I want you to see what you’ve done, you’re not the victim here and neither am I, but I’m not the bad guy either. We’re just two good people who got into a very bad situation and it bit us both in the ass.
You are like a cancerous tumor; you’ll grow until eventually you kill me (figuratively, of course), so I’m taking care of this problem. You’ll affect me everyday of my life unless I cut you out or cut out the past and the memory you left welded into my mind. I won’t take this sitting down, I’ll stand and show you that your little mind games do not work on me. I’m a hell of a lot stronger than that, I refuse to let you see me mope around looking for a pity party from people. You may think that’s the best thing to do for yourself, but I have to be realistic about this whole thing. I realize that what we had was a high school relationship and that it may have seemed like it meant so much at the time, but it will not affect me for the rest of my life. Of course the best friend that I had is gone now; he went M.I.A., one minute you were here and the next you disappeared from this world, my world. And doubt you’ll ever come back, you’ve either moved on to another place or you’re in limbo between this place and the next. I’m unsure also, I’m unsure if I hate you or if I want to become your friend once more. I wish that someone would come to me and tell me what would be best, but that’s just a fantasy as a lot of things have been.
This fragile fantasy that I’ve been living in has been shattered, all the sharp glass encouraging me to come closer and look at what had been, but I know that if I take a chance I’ll cut myself a scar in my heart bigger than I can stitch up. I feel like a child who’s been told that the ending that they’ve been yearning for is only farce, I’ve made myself at home in lies that I’ve created to make myself happier, but I’ve only hurt myself in the end; where it really matters. You were a stranger offering me false peace and I pitifully bought into it, seeing something that I could mold, but you can’t change someone. You get what they have to offer and I realize that you’re not what I want, you never were and I was a fool to think otherwise. That’s my fault; I’ll take the blame for setting up this emotional death trap. I was naive and wanted someone to understand me and I took it a level too far. It doesn’t hurt to know that what we had as a smaller version of love is gone, no that doesn’t hurt at all. It’s that one of my best friends is gone because of my actions and your actions, we were not meant to be that way. We were meant to be amazing friends, but now; we’re merely classmates who will leave each other in this school. When we’re done here we’ll be nothing but memories for each other and it’s sad in a way that I can’t describe, but I wish I could to make you understand. To make you see that I miss you in a way that marks me as just a friend, I don’t miss you every day and I don’t miss you once every month. I miss you when I realize what we’ve done, how we’ve screwed everything up as friends. I miss you when I see that you’re no longer close to some of our mutual friends anymore, you’re no longer part of the gang. You’ll make no more memories with us, we’ll never see each other when we’re older and share the past of teenage stupidity and laugh; that’s what hurts the most. But you’ll never know that, I refuse to be hurt by you, to feel sad about it and worse off to show you that I’m sad and hurt. I’ll show you that I’m not going to go weep and wish that you were next to me to cheer me up because I’ll be just fine by myself. Don’t you doubt that for one second, ever because if you do I’ll make sure to remind you. So this is how I keep that memory of our friendship alive, it can never die as long as this ink is upon this paper intact. This is my final farewell to the stranger you’ve become to me.
***
So a few weeks after I wrote this, I came back and reread it. Now I want to add to it, to make it more understandable to the people who may read this. I was full of anger, hate, sadness and revenge when I started to write this. This was my way out of bottling up my emotions and letting them overflow at one point. So it may seem jumbled, but I’m willing to go back and dive into that flood of emotions to make it clearer. But somehow I’m still angry, rereading this brings me back to all the crap I dealt with and how I yearn to get revenge on this boy. Though I realize that by both of us being in pain we’re getting revenge on each other. It may sound childish and ridiculous to want revenge, but when you’ve dealt with people commenting on your personal life while you were in one of the more low times in your life, you tend to want revenge. You want someone to share your pain, feel what you’ve felt. Let them drown in the tears you wasted on them. I don’t hate him; I just want him to realize that by victimizing himself he will never see what I’m feeling and what I felt. I truly don’t care about him any longer; I’m done trying to be his friend if I’m the only one putting in effort. Some say that we need to have someone help us out; i.e.: a counselor. But I’m not going to go to someone else to solve my problems, I need to do it for myself; there’s no use in seeking help when that person wasn’t there when you went through the hardships of the relationship. We’re both going to twist the story even if we don’t want to. Things are so easily interpreted when we use the ambiguity of the internet to our advantage. I refuse to let just anyone in my personal life and my emotions when they quickly judge and assume. And at this point I’m just done with this whole situation. I’m done with getting IMs from his friends saying that I’m “crazy” and “fucked up”. It’s so childish and I’d rather just live my life without it, without tears and days that I dread getting out of bed and seeing his face. Of course that no longer happens, I’m fine now and pass him everyday and I no longer get a twinge of guilt or regret; what happened, happened.
I can’t go back.
I realized that our “love” for each other didn’t die, it just never really grew and that’s both our faults, but I don’t think it would’ve gotten very far anyway and I’m better now than I was when I first started writing. I’m not sure if he is, but he’s never handled anything O.K., he’s very emotional and doesn’t seem to know what he wants, but that’s his way of handling things. I’m not going to ridicule him for handling it differently then I have, but sometimes I think he takes it to a higher level then it has to go. He drags people down with him and others who do not want to deal with him distance themselves from him. It’s quite sad to see, but he brought it on himself and I don’t intend to help him. To me he has truly died and I don’t plan on digging up his grave again to reexamine what could have been. This is it; this is where I let his memory live on and never look back to check if I’ve done it correctly because this is all I can do.