patent fiber
I am done.
I am done with you. I mentally can’t deal with you anymore. Every day I think of you, and for what reason? You used to make me so happy; hearing your name used to put me in such a good mood, and for what? I don’t know why I’m writing this. You’ll never see this. You never bothered with the way I felt. I can’t anymore. I can not take it anymore. You caused so much joy yet so much despair in one year. It’s like I’m on a sick roller coaster where my feelings are the ones that are at stake. You slowly took me up to the peaks of my happiness, and just like that, when you didn’t expect it, you took me to lows I didn’t even know I had. Finally, taking me through a series of loop de loops which makes me feel sick every time I think of you.
It’s 1 am, and we both know I don’t make rash decisions when I’m tired. As I rest my head on my plush blue pillow, procrastinating on an assessment, staring into the soft glow of my laptop screen, I wonder when do I let you put me through this again? What’s that old saying? “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.” Hell, I’m already a fool, so what’s after that? Do you know what still get’s me? I still love you. I don’t know why. It doesn’t matter how much torment you put me through; I still love you. I still imagine you, I still imagine us, and I’m holding on to something that didn’t even happen, but it makes me so happy. Actually, being in a healthy relationship with someone, genuinely caring for someone, is something I’ve longed for, and I thought that could be us. It turns out I was wrong, but hey, that’s love, right? I had every opportunity to tell you how I felt about you, but I didn’t tell you. I always felt like you knew. You’ve had to of known. But when I needed closure, when I needed the last say, I got denied it. I get pushed away, having to be told by your friend that you’d prefer me as a stranger. I just feel empty.
limber kiln