An In between

I know I can't make you choose between me and that other person.  Whomever will fit into that category.

So okay, I get that.

I know you wouldn't choose me, because I've always been here, and you're more into new things.  Okay, I can deal.  So I guess, I'll just see you when I do.  In the mean time, I will answer the questions about this friendship that I've been meaning to ask myself.

You'd tell me that no, against someone you might choose me.  Haha.  Note the sarcasm please. :)

We're best friends, so we'll pick up where we left.  We'll find time when we can accomodate each other, and we'll be together while that person isn't on your mind.  Or even then, if you can remember my name. HAHA. note lack of sarcasm.

It sounds sad, it sounds retarded, but I'd like to have my thoughts put down somewhere.  A weird reminder of how I'm okay with a lot of things today, even when he tried to talk to me sneaky-sneaky. HAHAHA.

Yeah, I'm just going to go ahead and place that under assumptions, because I don't know what I'm talking about.  Am I rambling?  Yeah, I am.

Enough.

But please, you need to stop drinking.  You know I drink, and some of the best and worst times we were together is when we were drinking, but enough.  Seriously.  hahaha.

I know you won't.

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It never occurred to me why I stayed.  I loved you, or at least I thought I did.  But you chose her.  I'm okay with that.

Your selfish, you're immature, you're horny, and you've got the emotional maturity of a fifteen year old I would suppose.  But it's okay.  I'm here to listen, even when you don't want me to.

I want my best friend back.

You can fuck her.  You can make out with her.  You can take her out on dates you couldn't ever take me too.  I don't care.  I don't fucking care.

I just want my best friend back.

I can hate her all I want for choosing you, and for hurting, like some whatever she is, the person I love.  More than choosing you, for hurting that person.

She took you.  She took that person's heart too.

fine.

I just want my best friend back.

Because you fucking disappear every time.

And I have to figure out how, or why on my own.  And I'm tired.  I need your input too.

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I'm listening to myself talk, and I think I have at least 3 different people arguing inside my head.  Three people who love three different things, who act differently, who want different things.

A writer, a lover, an artist maybe?

the writer who only really speaks of one person.
the lover who's met the (imaginary) one.
and the artist who will never forgive himself.

shame.
hope.
peace?

I wonder.  Will I persist?  Will my happiness persist?  Or is that imaginary too?

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I'm sick.  Oh yes, sick.  Like feverish and sipon-ish (colds).  And I'm smoking cigarettes when the rain grows weary of it's constant downpour.

I sent you a message.  Today, like I do most days.  Like you do most days, I wait, and usually for nothing.  Today's no different.  Probably why I have tomorrow.

I'm still waiting.  Maybe when you do reply, it will be something worth talking about.  Until then, my cigarettes, and memories of smoking Reds beside you on rainy will keep me company.

cheers.

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you didn't even notice I was gone. :)

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