feels like forever and a day.
I'm wrapped up in a blanket with my headphones on. Thankfully.
I've been sneezing all day, goddamnit. And I'm sick of it. And I'm close to tears, but not because I've been sneezing.
I was just... looking back through some of her posts. Seeing if she had any new ones - she hasn't posted anything since that PostSecret that she knows made me feel guilty.
I don't want to know what she's done, what she wants to do. I don't care if it's with her current boyfriend, or her ex, or some random chick. I don't want to know. Because whenever I hear about it [or read about it, but you know], it hurts. Because she doesn't see me like that. She'll never see me like that.
She writes confessions or PostSecrets or whatever-you-wills saying she's almost ready. And it's like a fucking knife, because... she doesn't care, it seems. She says she'll break up with him if he keeps being a jackass towards me, but... she doesn't care. She doesn't see it. She doesn't listen.
I have to break down in tears and be unable to talk for her to listen.
Just because I'm fourteen and she's fifteen doesn't mean anything, does it? She's always said that sometimes she thinks I'm older than what I am. And I am. Not literally, of course. But... you know what I mean. She's been my best friend for a while now, so... why can't something else come of it? It happens all the time.
I want her. There, I said it. I want to be the Ville to her Bam, the Jonne to her Kris, the Cat to her Andy. I want it, so bad. It's killing me, knowing that she has someone else. That she's doing things with someone else.
But I'm just Renee to her. Just Renee. Nothing more.
And it hurts.
I've been sneezing all day, goddamnit. And I'm sick of it. And I'm close to tears, but not because I've been sneezing.
I was just... looking back through some of her posts. Seeing if she had any new ones - she hasn't posted anything since that PostSecret that she knows made me feel guilty.
I don't want to know what she's done, what she wants to do. I don't care if it's with her current boyfriend, or her ex, or some random chick. I don't want to know. Because whenever I hear about it [or read about it, but you know], it hurts. Because she doesn't see me like that. She'll never see me like that.
She writes confessions or PostSecrets or whatever-you-wills saying she's almost ready. And it's like a fucking knife, because... she doesn't care, it seems. She says she'll break up with him if he keeps being a jackass towards me, but... she doesn't care. She doesn't see it. She doesn't listen.
I have to break down in tears and be unable to talk for her to listen.
Just because I'm fourteen and she's fifteen doesn't mean anything, does it? She's always said that sometimes she thinks I'm older than what I am. And I am. Not literally, of course. But... you know what I mean. She's been my best friend for a while now, so... why can't something else come of it? It happens all the time.
I want her. There, I said it. I want to be the Ville to her Bam, the Jonne to her Kris, the Cat to her Andy. I want it, so bad. It's killing me, knowing that she has someone else. That she's doing things with someone else.
But I'm just Renee to her. Just Renee. Nothing more.
And it hurts.