I sat down to write on my book tonite, but this came out instead. Writing is therapy, my friends...
...
Sometime it seems like my heart broke, and all my friends abandoned me. I know that’s defeatist, self-pitying, and not actually true; but I still can’t help but feel that way occasionally. I used to be there, always there. I was part of the center, accepted, surrounded by friends. And I was happy. At least I think I was. But, looking back, it’s sullied. I guess, in some ways, it always was. By hidden feelings, private agendas; there was always something. Our entire friendship rested on a thread; a house of cards built on something I felt, and a turn you never reciprocated.
Oscar Wilde once said that we were all in the gutter; all that was different is that some of us looked to the stars. I found my star in you. I found my sky in you. The answer, the reason; I thought you were all of it. I just wish I could have been your answer, your reason. It didn’t take long for me to become the abstract. One of the hearts left wrecked and broken on your path. The person that’s still here, even though he doesn’t want to be. I never thought I would become a reason for awkwardness, and this unintended patronization.
Out of mind, out of sight isn’t working. I haven’t looked at you in weeks. I’ve seen you, but I’ve looked away before I can focus. It’s all that’s kept me sane. If my eyes settled, just once, I’d fall apart all over again. A mere two months ago I thought my life was finally coming together; turns out it was just getting ready to fall apart.
...
*sighs*
there; I feel better.