Sweet Rosé

So I sat in your room for the first time in a very long time. Ever since you first randomly messaged me, I had been dreading that very moment - sitting on the edge of your bed, clutching my bag which held a bottle of Four Cousins Sweet Rose' and wondering whether I was going to say something that would ruin everything all over again.

Of course my mind was just causing me to over-think everything as it usually does but I was not aware, until that moment, just how much fear I had been holding inside of me up in anticipation for this encounter with you. As we talked things flowed and I was able to be chilled and open once I finally got out of my own head. It was weird speaking to you as though nothing had ever been estranged between us but I loved it - I loved being back in that place where you showed a genuine interest in my life and were also willing to tell me about yours. A part of me kept on wanting to ask you 'Why?' ... 'Why did you suddenly want to speak to me again?'. You told me the answer I suppose but I guess I'll never grasp an understanding of it because I'm not used to people leaving and then coming back like you have. I'm not complaining, rather I'm embracing it but that doesn't mean I don't harbor some kind of natural curiosity as to what it was that made you want to talk to me, of all people, again.

After talking to you, I've realized just how many unanswered questions have taken up residence within my mind without my awareness. I suppose though that they are the sort of questions that one doesn't want to hear the answers to... even though what you'd have to say would probably be exactly what I need to hear. It's just so difficult being reminded of all the mistakes you've made and their thorny consequences. There were a couple of times where I felt so sore as my chest and throat pulled tight when you mentioned his name - I spoke of him as briefly as I could manage and then let you say all of the rest because talking about him and even thinking about him to a certain extent puts me on the verge of a depression that I cannot afford to sink into. I know that you'll understand what I mean but perhaps to most I sound like I'm speaking of someone I was once in love with... but I'm not. You know I don't love him like that... but I cannot dispute the fact that I love him so much no matter what any says about me or about him or about the type of friendship we had. I love him - and I know you love him too. So you can understand (I hope) where I am coming from when I say that losing him has shattered me to no end. Knowing that he practically loathes my existence rips me apart every day if I let my mind wander too far in the direction of him. So I don't think about him because I can't stand to live my life as a blubbering, dramatic mess of a girl who once again has let her emotions consume her. I wish I could have brought myself to ask you what he's said in regards to me so that I would know how I appear to him - but I can't do that mostly because of the fear that you'll confirm all of my assumptions about what he thinks. It hurts me so much to think of him hating me when all I can do is love him like I always have... 

I wish I could have asked you every question imaginable... not in the expectation that you would be able to answer them all but rather in the hopes that I would have someone to ponder and debate with about those 'deep, meaningful everythings'. I really needed today - it's been a really long while since I've had a conversation quite like the one I've had today - time spent with you is not easily comparable or equatable to any other experience I would have with any of my other friends. So thank you for today and just know that I'm proud of you always. I love you. I think I'm going to go read your blog for a bit now... (http://www.vividartilante.blogspot.com/ for those of you who don't know)

"Welcome To My World: ***Please leave all judgement and arrogance outside."

--J.

Have A Nice Life

Am I supposed to be able to forgive you and move on with my life? How can I forgive you or not remain somewhat angered by the fact that you caused me so much pain? I'm trying to forgive you because it is the right thing to do and because I can't live with this burden of hatred... but you've made it so difficult to even consider forgiveness.

I don't like blaming people - I really don't. I also don't think it's practical or mature to blame others or to hold grudges. That's why I'm tripping so much about being so angry at the two of you. I don't want to be angry at anyone because life is too short and I want to be happy... I just don't know how to forgive or to get over this.

To the person who claimed to be my friend - why? What happened to your ability to make your own decisions? And for the lack of a better question... Why don't you just grow a pair? I understand and respect that you prioritise and consider your girlfriend highly but why did I have to suffer so much as a result. I know that boundaries were necessary and you know that I didn't do anything to disrespect your relationships. I stand by the claim that I didn't do anything inappropriate or wrong... despite the treatment or reactions that I received. I know you love her and I'm glad you do because you're happy... I'm sad that you chose her over me so abruptly and so completely - I'm hurt that all of a sudden, our friendship dissipated into nothingness.

Do you remember your birthday last year, friend? Do you remember what I did for you, what I said and more importantly, what you said? You told me that I was your best friend. You held my hands, looked me dead in the eye and you told me that over and above everyone else, I was your best friend. Nothing else has ever sounded truer to me than that. One year later, almost to the day, and we're so far apart in our friendship that we've practically become strangers. Now you resent me and you're ashamed of me and of being my friend. At one point you told me you had a 'soft spot'for me. Well, what the hell happened to it then? When did you stop caring all of a sudden? I wish I knew what it was that I did because then you know I'd try to make amends for it.

I always knew you would hurt me. I expected and predicted that you would. I remember telling you that I couldn't feel anything and that I couldn't and didn't feel love from other people and that I didn't have the capacity to love others at that particular time in my life. You tried so hard to make me believe that you loved me and I remember how hurt you said you were and how hurt you looked when I said I didn't feel anything. Long story short... it was that situation that lead to your name ending up etched into my skin. I wanted to prove to myself that I loved you... and I did. I still do. I have the damn scars to remind me everyday that you tried to believe me that you loved me... And now you hate me and you've pushed me away. So I sit and stare at these stupid scars that remind me that you're just like everyone else. I let my guard down for you because I wanted to love you like a true friend should. My guard was way down and then you left... then you just became another haunting, emotionless face - a shadow of the friend I once had.

I'm kind of worn out after saying all of that. I don't think you'll understand just how hard it was for me to put all of that into words... because what I have been repressing for months is now suddenly so real to me. I feel the pain and the rejection somewhat even more now than I did before... It has hollowed me out. I don't want to trust anyone any more because of what has happened with you. I can't let anyone have that much control over me and over my happiness. I don't want to let anyone in because I'm not going to risk getting hurt - getting crushed - again. I've always known it but I've never been able to admit it nor do I want to admit it... I've always known that you never really cared about me.

When I started writing this I thought I would be addressing two people. I've written to the person who I thought was my friend... and then there's his girlfriend. I don't even want to say anything to her, about her or about the way she's affected me. I'm too tired... I'm so tired. Perhaps I should've written this when the rage was still coursing through me.  Now I'm just so done and just so far gone. I don't want to think about it any more because it hurts like hell and being angry is exhausting. So I wish I could say every mean thing that could possibly be said, I wish that I could just be a bitch about you... but you're just not worth it.

Have a nice life.

--J.