I don’t know what to write to you, so I’m writing and deleting things as I type this. I’m pretty tired too, just like you are, and I don’t know if it’s better for us to just stop communication or if quitting communication will just end things faster.
I don’t know if being honest with you right now is the best thing or not, or if it’s better for me to just keep my thoughts to myself and just be nice to you– as in just pretend to be okay and maybe it’ll get better. I haven’t decided which route to take. I feel like if I’m honest with you it just doesn’t do anything- but I feel like if I’m fake with you then you’ll think everything is okay and move on without any second thoughts. Then everything circles back to the root of the problem and then I’m lost in that cycle again (at least for now).
I wonder. Are you even curious about my days? Or does it just feel nice to know that you have a friend back at home that you put on hold. Someone that you water a few times a day when you’re bored. Have I really become this person to you?
Probably not. But, we were close once.
Indeed, we were close once.
Maybe this broken path can never be fixed. But, it was only lightning that struck once. Nothing more nothing less. Something so small and trivial yet so thunderous and impactful. Tunes that cut into my skull. Maybe you’ll bleed out too once I pull your trigger.
Cause triggers- oh, there’s just so many triggers. So many minuscule actions that built up throughout the course of the season.
But it wasn’t all that bad.
You made me sing at one point. Maybe even dance.
You helped me fly through the cracks and the tunnels when I was too afraid to skim through.
But, like a child I am faced with too many fears. Too many voices and too many worries.
I’ve lost people before, and this won’t be new.
Yes, we were great once, but we’ll be even greater apart.
Does this even make any sense to you?
I wonder how you’re doing. I wonder if you’re okay.
I liked your frizzy, colored out hair.
But shaved wasn’t so bad either.