The following is an extract from an entry I typed and scraped, simply because you’re not worth the humiliation derived from a public baring of my soul.
Maybe you were, but right now? Not a single drip.
“Do I have to be lonely and self-sufficient to be qualified to sit in your car and make conversations with you? Do I have to always be the one who’s a notch below you before I can make this friendship work out? Do I have to feel chewed up and spitted out before I can ask how’s your day?
Maybe this wasn’t your intention, but it sure as hell feels that way. And after a whole year of this feeling constantly thrashing inside me, I’m tired. Too tired to do anything besides wonder what really happened to the friendship I’ve invested so much time and energy in.”
There are so many questions but knowing you, answering them would be a feat. Furthermore, I can’t help but realize that we don’t talk anymore.
We simply don’t.
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