Wine and roses

Wrote so much till my thoughts are dry and fingers are numb but still unable to capture a single nuance of what it feels/felt like.

Tonight’s the night for words haha two posts in one go here goes.

Well I was just reading my previous post about the catch up sess with you, and I feel so…..I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s not exactly a positive feeling. I hate how much of a dilemma I’m in with everything that regards you, I hate how I fall so head over heels in friend-love with you and all of those anger and past grudges just melt away the moment I see you and we get reconnected. I hate how after that things last only for a blink of an eye, and then the feeling of neglect and insincerity and one-sidedness overwhelms me all over again, and I think to myself why, why did I let you enter my life over and over again, when all I wanted to do was to shut you out after all that you’ve done to me? What do I mean exactly to you, why does it seem as though I only matter when I’m physically with you, after which my existence and all other associations are completely irrelevant in your life?
And here I am, always thinking me about you, thinking about whether you’re thinking about me, whether you’ve thought about me at all, when the answer is actually stark nakedly obvious.
It pains me to admit that, the on the day you sat beside me, again like in the past, it felt like something so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. I remember sitting right next to you for so many days on end, the special things that we would do together in class, how I loved sitting right next to you and even if we aren’t talking it feels perfectly comfortable. That day felt strangely different; you were right next to me, but all I could feel is us drifting further and further apart every second until I could no longer feel your presence intertwined with mine; I was sad, but I could only wait for it to die out. We were talking, but i felt like we were talking for the first time, the kind of empty meaningless talk that triggers zero emotions, and after a while i just wanted to stop talking. The walk out together was worse, she was a mutual friend but it felt like there was an intruder between us, that there was a barrier growing bigger and bigger every minute until I could no longer see, or hear you; I was scared, but I could only watch it grow exponentially. We bid farewell, we split ways, you went off with her and I left on my own. And likewise, that’s what happened in our lives too I guess. As much as I love you and still do, I hope that you’ll never come back into my life again; that I’ll have the strength to keep you away, to keep that special place in my heart, that used to be yours, vacantly occupied — vacant from your absence, but occupied by your grave.

P.S. it’s a stupid and insignificant sounding thing but the fact that you forgot that it was a special day to me haunts me everyday, until now. You said you would make it up, but I don’t think you ever will. Until now I still don’t understand how you can ever forget. Or maybe I do.

Mingling

It breaks my heart to discover that no two friends can ever be together forever (if forever even exists), unless they both do not change at all throughout the course of their lives, and of course that is highly unlikely; alternatively they could both change together, but that would mean that the end result of their change will be a pair that complements each other again (if the split did not occur during the process of the change), and that again is even more unlikely, like trying to capture two changing mosaics at exactly the same infinitesimal second, if such a thing even exists. I am angry and upset that people only make friends with those who fall into the boundaries of their lives, with those who can be categorized into the respective categories drawn out in their lives; for work; for school; for sports; for monetary benefits; for resource; for emotional support; for a listening ear; for laughter; for amusement; and beyond that everyone else remains only as temporary strangers, that is, until the context changes and these ‘strangers’ happen to fall into one of those vague categories, then poof hi there we are friends, for now.
It scares me to think about all of these, even if it isn’t true for all, even if it’s only imaginary, even if it isn’t true at all. It scares me more to wonder if I’m part of it as well; it scares me to death to know that I probably am.