I just want to curl up into a ball and let sleep take me away
The other night I had trouble going to sleep. I was tired but my brain was still running laps and I started messing with my cell phone. I ended up going through my text in-box, deleting old or insignificant messages, and came to a stop. I had run into messages from John.
I read them, wondering how someone could be so cruel and dismissing to somebody they had known for so long.
It hurt. It hurt so bad.
I have known John since the second grade (a grand total of ten years now). Starting high school we were the only people we knew in the entire student body. And through out the next four years his friends had come and gone with the tide, but I always stayed with him. He was my friend. Yes, he could be annoying, immature, dense, an idiot, and a drama king, but that still didn't deter me from being as constant of a friend as I could be.
John had (and has) a problem. John was a chronic liar. Everything, and I mean everything, could be changed and twisted to fit into how he wanted it. He did it for attention, especially from his friends who were girls. He sucked up their care and emotions like a hungry leech, and when the supply ran out he would move on. When he figured out that our friends and I wouldn't give him the kind of attention he wanted he seemed to leave us alone and branched off.
Finally, I couldn't stand it any more. He had succeeded in trapping my attentions once again and I had had enough.
Since he would talk to me mostly through text, I texted him saying how I had always been willing to give him the benefit of a doubt in every situation but that this was it. I was done with his shit and told him to leave me alone. His reply (which I found tucked away in my inbox) was this:
Txt1"What the f*** are you talking about?"
Txt2"But hey if u wanna be done that's cool with me. I never liked you anyway. And I dig skinny chicks anyway. I have no idea what your f***in problem is bitch and I don't even care any more."
My friend, who I had loved and treated like my own brother, called me an f-ing bitch and threw away our friendship and our history without so much as a second look. He spat names at me, and stabbed me with my greatest insecurity.
I never curse at people, but after this, and the result of me crying in the middle of class, it was on. But, of course, it was all over the phone since John has always been too much of a coward to say anything to my face. He's never been able to look at me when I've confronted him about something. This could also be for his own dramatic purposes in which the surest way of disappointing him would've been to do/say nothing about it.
It hurts. It still hurts.
Yes, he's an ass and, yes, he's the biggest douche to walk the earth, but I still miss him. It's almost like the last part of my childhood finally died once John was cut out of the picture. And now I feel like I'm at a loss. I don't quite know what to do with myself besides grieve. A piece of flesh has been ripped out of me and I still can't see anything beyond the pain at times. The pain is there and yet, I feel numb.
Why do boys have to do this? There are so many different answers to that question, all of which are probably true.
I got to hug him after graduation. That's all I wanted. I guess it had always been a symbol that high school was really over, at least in my mind. I knew that if I didn't get to hug him good-bye then I would always regret it. He's a douche, but he's my douche. It's how I am with my brother: yeah, he can be an ass sometimes and he still needs to grow up some, but that doesn't mean that I love him any less.
He accepted my hug and didn't run away from me. This was one of the highlights of my night and somehow it gave me a sense of closure.
Now, all I have to do is let myself heal. But who knows how long that will take?
From past experiences... it may take a while.
I read them, wondering how someone could be so cruel and dismissing to somebody they had known for so long.
It hurt. It hurt so bad.
I have known John since the second grade (a grand total of ten years now). Starting high school we were the only people we knew in the entire student body. And through out the next four years his friends had come and gone with the tide, but I always stayed with him. He was my friend. Yes, he could be annoying, immature, dense, an idiot, and a drama king, but that still didn't deter me from being as constant of a friend as I could be.
John had (and has) a problem. John was a chronic liar. Everything, and I mean everything, could be changed and twisted to fit into how he wanted it. He did it for attention, especially from his friends who were girls. He sucked up their care and emotions like a hungry leech, and when the supply ran out he would move on. When he figured out that our friends and I wouldn't give him the kind of attention he wanted he seemed to leave us alone and branched off.
Finally, I couldn't stand it any more. He had succeeded in trapping my attentions once again and I had had enough.
Since he would talk to me mostly through text, I texted him saying how I had always been willing to give him the benefit of a doubt in every situation but that this was it. I was done with his shit and told him to leave me alone. His reply (which I found tucked away in my inbox) was this:
Txt1"What the f*** are you talking about?"
Txt2"But hey if u wanna be done that's cool with me. I never liked you anyway. And I dig skinny chicks anyway. I have no idea what your f***in problem is bitch and I don't even care any more."
My friend, who I had loved and treated like my own brother, called me an f-ing bitch and threw away our friendship and our history without so much as a second look. He spat names at me, and stabbed me with my greatest insecurity.
I never curse at people, but after this, and the result of me crying in the middle of class, it was on. But, of course, it was all over the phone since John has always been too much of a coward to say anything to my face. He's never been able to look at me when I've confronted him about something. This could also be for his own dramatic purposes in which the surest way of disappointing him would've been to do/say nothing about it.
It hurts. It still hurts.
Yes, he's an ass and, yes, he's the biggest douche to walk the earth, but I still miss him. It's almost like the last part of my childhood finally died once John was cut out of the picture. And now I feel like I'm at a loss. I don't quite know what to do with myself besides grieve. A piece of flesh has been ripped out of me and I still can't see anything beyond the pain at times. The pain is there and yet, I feel numb.
Why do boys have to do this? There are so many different answers to that question, all of which are probably true.
I got to hug him after graduation. That's all I wanted. I guess it had always been a symbol that high school was really over, at least in my mind. I knew that if I didn't get to hug him good-bye then I would always regret it. He's a douche, but he's my douche. It's how I am with my brother: yeah, he can be an ass sometimes and he still needs to grow up some, but that doesn't mean that I love him any less.
He accepted my hug and didn't run away from me. This was one of the highlights of my night and somehow it gave me a sense of closure.
Now, all I have to do is let myself heal. But who knows how long that will take?
From past experiences... it may take a while.