February 28th, 2008


(no subject)

dear you,
i'm not so good with expressing my feelings so i'm not sure how this will sound and that's most definitely why you don't know this already. the reason i've backed away is that my feelings for you are so intense i feel like i need to cool down for a while. i do this a lot it's the only way i can bare to deal with it. you make me feel completely disgusting. there's been so many times when i've been with you and completely cried when i knew you weren't looking. i know it should just be about sex and i've had many just sex relastionships but with you i want so much more. you make me feel like such teen girl and so insecure. which i am not used to at all and i don't know how to deal with. and i just hate that i've had to wrestle with my feelings for you so many times. some girl had an away message up about how when she dosen't talk to her boyfriend she listens to voice messages he's left her. this makes me think of when we first started out and you left me a voice message to just say hi and i would listen to it everyday. i miss stuff like that. i miss text messages just to say good morning and cute stuff. there's a movie in my head of how my life should be and it certainly does not involve "just sex" with my leading man. and i know we've had this conversation a million times and you get mad at me for saying it's just sex but you have not done anything to show me it's anything more. i think the only way to describe my feelings is in love but i guess i'm just so tired of getting upset over you. it honestly disgusts me that i even have feelings for you but i can't help it there's just something about you. i am in love with you. and all those things i say to you when i'm fucked up i completely mean. it'd be awesome to grow old and have kids with you. i just keep backing away cause you don't show me any signs of your feelings for me besides what you say which who knows if it's true. you're the only boy who has ever made me so insecure but i just can't get you out of my system at all. it's love. when you're ready to grow up call me. it completely breaks my heart that i'm moving 12 hours away which is most definitely going to end us. the thought of you not in my life completely terrifies me even though you sometimes make me want to puke.
i love you seriously,

(no subject)

Dear Friend,

Guess you’ll never read this. Whatever. This was written less to you and more as one of those vague “what I would say to you if you were around” things. I don’t know if you’ll ever receive it. I’ll feign being blasé about it. Sure. Why the fuck not.

I’ve wondered, since circa July, what I’d say if you returned. I’m not quite sure if you fully realize the gravity of your actions. Yes, that sounds contrived. But you were a serious dick. I guess what angered me most was that you did what I had wanted to do for so long. You being around was like an addiction- not to sound cheesy. We weren’t in love, and that’s why it was so great; no strings. If I had something shitty going on, I wouldn’t have to talk about it to my friends and I wouldn’t have to pretend to find fulfillment in that emotionless paper and cardboard object that is a diary. I had you, who was detached from my closed reality, who could make me smile and sometimes even be a voice of reason.

Dunno why you left when you did. I’ve agonized over our last conversation a million times, and I’ve come up with some clues. I’m guessing you wanted to change, or you just flatout didn’t enjoy my company anymore. Those are the easiest ones to accept because, I guess, I could identify them. I can’s even count the times that I’ve tried to leave my simple world and go out and live a real life, and I can’t count all the times where I’ve cut myself off from somebody for no other reason than the fact that I didn’t like them as much as I used to. But your reasons, I’m sure, are different. I know you’re fickle. I know that for no other reason than gut instinct, no other reason than the subtle implications that you’re insecure and your beliefs about people are constantly changing. You’re an optimist at heart, but you’ve grown into a pessimistic cynic- so you were willing to latch onto any negative ideal that would affirm your belief that I was a bad person or something. You used me knocking your “dream” down as an excuse, I think. Shooting you down was the right thing to do, even though it was hard- it was the right thing for me, at least, and my intent was to throw some reality at you so you’d stop chasing this unrealistic vision of a utopia that you’ll never achieve. Or maybe you’ve already achieved it, and without me. I’ll never know.

Anyway your reasoning didn’t matter. What mattered- to me, that it- was the effect of your actions. I’m aware you were around for a while, and I chose not to engage you in conversation. And maybe that has something to do with it to, but it was your turn to start talking. Not mine. So when you were last around- in September- I ignored you. And maybe that made everything worse. I just don’t know, I guess I just wanted to be the stronger person. I needed to feel strong because all summer I felt weak- I cut myself off from everyone, and found it impossible to open up. With September, things got better, I adjusted, I was happy, I made loads of friends and felt alive, unlike I had in the summer. And for a while, I forgot you. For a while I still manage to forget you. But I’m not having as easy a time with it as you seem to be.

Because, believe it or not, I miss our talks. I miss our ridiculous conversations, the ones that went on for hours, the ones that happened almost a year ago. I miss feeling like you gave a fuck, or at least pretending you did. I push it all to the back of my mind for weeks at a time, doublethinking you away, trying to find new things to do with my twisted, haunted mind. But on nights when I’m playing the insomniac, up until three o’clock on my computer, or complaining about posers, drinking tons of coffee, or watching twisted movies, or worrying about the future of our nation, or listening to that awful music you like, I get this odd sort of pang, reminding me of the past and how somehow, some way, that all got screwed up.

Getting back to school I tried to think logically. All the things about you I missed, my subconscious led me to find people with those qualities. I’ve got the friend I can talk to when I’m upset about parents or whatever. I’ve got the friend who shared my haunted obsession with our kinds of cinema and weird unteenagerlike entertainment. I’ve got friends whose banter and wit manage to match mine. I’m happy. Or at least I honestly attempt to be. I persist to pretend I am because it makes me seem less disgustingly dependent. I kind of wonder- no matter what I do, no matter what friends I make, I’ve got a disgusting feeling that I’ll always think of you. I have no idea why you stand out against my other friends who have come and gone. I’ve had scores of close ones in the past but you stand out as the one I actually miss and think about every so often. And I’m afraid I’ll be haunted by this forever.

But here’s the thing: you’re not coming back. I know this for a fact. I’m not sure of everything, but I know, flatout, that you’re never ever going to come back to me. Things will never again be like they were. I don’t know whether or not this is a good thing or whether it is a bad thing. All I know is that every time I go through one of the aforementioned experiences, eventually my mind will wander and it will be you I’m thinking of. You have no idea what that does to me. You have no idea what a mindfuck that truly is. It’s not the emotion or the sentiment that will get me- it is the lack of closure, the death of someone who isn’t really dead, the unexplained absence. It is never having my questions answered. It is always wondering if I could have changed something somewhere along the line to undo this mess. It is the pain of knowing that I demolished your optimism, even if you didn’t show it, hell, even if you didn’t even know it. It’s the fact that I don’t know how to be upset about something like this because no one ever taught me how to deal with this sort of thing.

It’s all those things, but most of all, it’s knowing what I had for a few months. I had a no-strings-attached, no consequence friendship with a pretty awesome person who I thought was pretty decent, and so much smarter than he ever knew- and I’m fairly certain thought that I was fairly decent and pretty smart as well. It was funny and witty and liberating for a while, and I thought that since there was nothing messy or dramatic or angry about it that it would never end- or, if it would end, it would go peacefully and perfectly, like dying in sleep. I always knew you were a mess, but never suspected that this would affect our completely whimsical friendship. I never suspected that maybe never entering that sort of thing would have made me a better person. But I know I’m wrong- because in a sense, I feel that you changed me for the better. I feel like I can be smart and funny, I feel like I’m not the only one in the world who likes to discuss ideas and worries about the future- and not just her own future, but the future of the world and what will happen after we’re all gone and things we have no way of knowing. I’m different than I was, and I thank you for that.

Anyway if you read this you’d probably think it was totally over-sentimental shit, and have a good laugh about it. And if I sent this, I can guarantee you’d be laughing about this- with the person who’s standing in as the new me, taking my place. And you’ll both laugh about how ridiculously gushy and girly and whatever I’m being. I know this because I know you and I know you can’t take anything with this level of teenage angst too seriously. Again, one of the things that I liked about you.

One thing I missed. I miss. I’m going to miss. But I’ll get over it some day.

-until then,
I'm still here.