Hard Times

I feel a little empty now. Less angry, less sad, less broken. Like a shadow or a memory of an open wound. A little less feeling; numb, if you will.

One of my downfalls is how uncomfortable I get with words. My phrases. The conversation. I tend to never say what I need to say; not because I refuse to share my feelings, but because I can't seem to get the words straight. I can't seem to vocally execute the pictures, moments, feelings in my head. I see the scene as it would on film; I can play it back, move it forward, in flashes, pause it, and slow motion. But the words never come clearly.

I forever told myself I would never be the embarrassing girlfriend; the one that pussywhips her other, spends his money, abuses his kindness, but the worst of them all: arguing in public. No, we didn't really argue, but there was a definite misunderstanding that went on in front of his friends.

I don't know how to completely appreciate this friendship we have when I am completely heartbroken at the same time. Being the one broken up with and having to listen to you speak about trying to meet other people; only remaining composed and positive when you also tell me that you were unsuccessful. Wanting to do everything you ask because I love you so much, even when I'm never involved with your special plans. Wanting to completely better myself as a person since I'm not good enough for you and your church. Your last kiss was so posionous, a cancer, but at the same time I feel your warmth spread through my body. The moment your lips left my cheek, I melted, but not the romantic way that I use to. This time it was like you were stealing the last of my happiness because of the reality that I can never kiss you back. I'm not allowed to...

I'm truly happy you're doing better. Being "the man I've always wanted to be". You had the positive reason to move one, I don't have one at all. All I had was the love we shared. But I think it's best you just leave me be. I can't be a good friend right now.