reality
02/11/2006 02:14 a.m.
The difference is that I lived with her on your hands everytime that you touched me, and yet I held on for us, thinking that things could maybe be different. I wonder if now you grasp how I couldn't shake things as quickly as you. But you don't know him. You don't know any of them. I knew her, you know? We told secrets together. We laughed in the summer and drank iced tea and drew funny little comics and cried on the phone until 2. In the back of your head you always figured that you stood alone and that I was disposable. Now I'm disposed, but appreciated. How sick is that? Maybe not appreciated by you, I don't know. Appreciated by someone, for sure though. God how I wished that it could have been you. I'll probably never understand why you work this way. And if you're the same guy you always have been, you'll probably find some way to never regret. But here we are, and I've learned so much about love and of friendship it hurts. I can feel now why everyone drinks. Why they get high. Kinda makes me wanna lose my morals some times. But I'll be ok. I already am, actually. It's just tragic to think about.