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"I'm happy for you, I'm smiling for you, I'd do anything, for you, for you. It's always for you and never for me, and I need it to stop so let me tell you please..."
And I'm doing it again. Writing for you.
It's almost unfair, don't you think? That I'm the only one thinking. That I'm the only one writing this with you in mind, and in yours . . . I don't know, her, maybe? Your job? Your movies, songs?
It's unfair that I still care.
Most people would list this off as jealousy. And yeah, maybe I am. There's no point in denying it anyway, gnóthi seautón, right? I am not the type to get jealous of people, you know that. While some are overly possessive of their significant others, best friends, etc., I am jealous envious of the time and attention you give them. Yea, it's okay if my best friends see their college friends, childhood besties, I don't have qualms about that because I'm content with what we have. Because I have confidence that even if I can't see or meet up with them, I know that they're missing me as much as I miss them.
But with you? I don't know where I stand anymore.
All I know is that I'm standing, and you were the one who lifted me back up when I was content on sitting on the cold floor of rock bottom. I owe you so, so much. To this day, I'm still thankful for your not-so-gentle nudges pushes, your taunts masked in a few "hahahas," so as not to offend me, your open ears and mind to my senseless ramblings and dramas. Thank you, my brother. You've been there for me so much that I'm starting to wonder if I ever did you the same courtesy. You said I did, and I think I did. But did you? And did you, really? Because I don't know what to believe anymore.
The blatant ignorance has happened before, and when you made a reappearance in my life, man, I was overjoyed. I told you as much but I don't think it could compare to what I was actually feeling. So I made do with actions, I made an effort to understand the language that was you. Your actions, mannerisms, your typography, hobbies. Your demons. To be honest (which I am at this hour,) they were the easiest to understand. I told you this before, you and I, we're cut from the same cloth. We have minds most people couldn't even begin to comprehend. But we did. And that's what formed this merry little band of ******** dewds.
I think the 2-year gap, in its own ******** way (well we are that sooo,) was good. The means to how that happened isn't pretty but yea, it's already there and we can't change history. Anyway, it allowed us to grow separately, make stories separately, and learn about ourselves more, separately And when we did finally talk, it was e n d l e s s .
We catched up on every damn thing. Covered every topic there is. Discussed literature, cinema, bands, love, mental illnesses, you name it. We were so open that we can be gross without pretense, sleep at each other's house without malice, hug publicly, and I mean real hugs, say "I love yous" without any romantic attachments. We are purely platonic despite what everyone around us urge us to be.
So what happened?
Was my company not enough? Or you have had enough of it? Goes both ways, don't you think?
You told me, xyou'll never do that to me again, xthe harsh ignorance and leaving without saying goodbye You told me, xyou breathe easier when you talk to me, xwhen I asked you if my friendship suffocates you You told me, xyou wanted me to see that majestic falls you saw, xwhen you were with your internship pals You told me, xwe will head due North xbecause we wanted to be like Alex Supertramp You told me, xthat we have until apocalypse to do the things we planned to. You told me.
Because that's what you and I do, we tell each other things. We tell but never make good of them.
I guess I really do have foresight though, I told you, in the first few weeks when we started talking again, that "I'll probably be ditched again when the next girlfriend comes," to which you said your sorrys for the umpteenth time and swore to never do it again. And me being me, I believed you.
A year after, the girlfriend really did come, and I guess I played a part in how you two became you. I mean, I was the one who kept on teasing you about her. Because I'm not blind, nor am I deaf. I could tell from your stories that that's how it's gonna end. I actually thought, at that time, that maybe, if you could get a girlfriend, and we stayed friends, then we'd ******** break all the clichés about a boy and girl staying friends. That you'd make do on your promise of ever ditching me again because your past girlfriend was jealous of me when I don't even do anything. I pushed you to your new girl, because I thought she'd be mature enough to understand that you have a female friend, to be not jealous of me, or the bond we share. That's what I thought. First few weeks were okay, I guess. She was friendly, she asks me about the things you like and like to do, like a proper girlfriend would do. She actually put in an effort for you. And I actually liked her more because of the stories you told me of her. And it actually doesn't hurt that she's so pretty. I thought, "Hey, it's cool. We can be friends! She won't get jealous of me because who am I, right? She's waaaay prettier and more confident than good ol' me." She wasn't jealous. But she envies my bond with you. Her replies told me as much. And then your replies became less and less and less until nothing at all.
My heart oscillated from feeling sadness, anger, and disappointment. But mostly, longing. I just miss my damn brother.
So yea, I have no way of knowing whether you hate me or not, misses (or even thinks) about me at nights when sleep doesn't come right away you can't make sleep. I don’t know if your sudden disappearance is due to you new bébé, and if history has indeed repeated itself. I don’t know and wouldn’t know becAUSE YOU DIDN’T ******** GAVE ME A HEADS-UP.
Sigh See you in the next two or so years, I guess.
Chi Eveldon · Wed Jun 13, 2018 @ 09:07pm · 0 Comments |
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