Storytime... (KISS)

...the twisted little way I have of writing...

Thursday, November 11, 2010

one dollar and fourty-two cents

It's funny how simple it is for you to make me cry. I'm thinking about the beginning. And I'm fearing we're at the end. And I never imagined my future, years from now, without you somewhere near me. Without your laughter and without that smile of yours that so few get to see. What ever happened to the love that we stared? What's left of this life we lead without each other standing by?
I feel like I'm in a blank sky hurling towards a ground that has a bottomless abyss and it just so happens that hole in the ground I'm supposed to hit is right below me. I'm just going to keep falling. The pain was supposed to come. The fear was supposed to end. I'm stuck in a what should I do moment. Should I aim for the ground and let this aweful nightmare come to a close, scar my heart and wound me for the rest of my life, if there is to be one. Or should I delay the inevitable end and wallow in the decent knowing only darkness and an uncertainty about what will happen next. Waiting. Falling. Waiting.
I cry so often over the loss of a best friend, telling myself if he were around, alive that I could tell him one thing or another, that I wouldn't let any hard feelings get in the way of telling him that I love him and sharing with him that friendship and connection that we shared. If only he weren't dead.
You are a friend to me, we understand so much of each other, much like the love that I've lost. I don't want to not share that blissful connection, that joy of friendship, that understanding. You make me cry when you say you don't want to have anything to do with me because it sucks for you. It sucks that you can't have me completely. You want that joy to be constant. Nothing in this world is constant. The only solace I can offer is "hey! At least I'm not dead! At least I'm alive to talk to." But rather than taking that joy in life whenever and wherever it is offered, you shun it completely because you can't handle not having what you want the way you want it.
And I'm lost. I can't fix this. I can't make things what you want them to be. I can't help needing to take things too slow. I want my friend. But if you won't have it. I'm sorry I can't give you more. It's like you want all ten bucks or nothing when all I have to give is one dollar and fourty-two cents.

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