i wish we were like lucas and haley
this sunday i spent at jamison's. him and i had to organize a bake sale, we baked with the cd girls.
i got my paper back from my writing class. there was a section i wrote about my bestfriends rose and jamison
jamison burish his mum calls him her charmer. yeah, he can get everyone by a laugh and wink. I care for this kid a lot. I don't think any other person has given me as much drama or tears as him. But we have fun. He's my family here. We take care of each other. usually.
today i turned this in...
21 More Ways to Start Writing- “Write two pages in which something is broken.”
Broken friendships are the worst, especially Will and Grace (minus the gay) kinds. It sucks when that comfort is gone. When you can’t share jokes, giggles, and laughs; it’s not the same after everything is broken. You just handed me a magazine cut out of RiRi and an article on Perez. You can’t do that anymore. You can’t tell me we’re not friends anymore and still try to act as if nothing has changed.
My friends tell me to treat it like a divorce. James told me, “Divorced people don’t talk." and here I am baking cookies with him. It’s for class. “Don’t make excuses,” she said. It’s hard for me to have something broken that I had for 3 years 24/7. It doesn’t seem fair, I don’t like it, but I’m learning to accept it.
Today was the first time, since what 3 weeks that you decided our friendship wasn’t worth anything, that I called you by one of our nicknames. It just slipped out and you answered. All weekend we had to work together and I was careful to only call you by your first or last name. It was hard to be in your apartment, where I never thought I would be at again. I’m a friend to your roommates but even they know I wouldn’t head over there. Where we watched movies, gossiped, cooked, slept, had all nighthers, had long talks, and so on. I tried to stay away from your room; I only went in when the other kid asked me to look at something on the laptop. I forgot how sometimes your place was a bit like my home. I found myself asking if I could get some water, asking for permission to use your bowels for mixing, and asking for other things. Before I wouldn’t ask because I would just do. It’s so different.
There where times where we forgot we had a broken friendship. We laughed and joked about Gap and Banana Republic. But it wasn’t the same. I always made sure we weren’t alone; I didn’t feel right when we where. You offered to drive me home, we talked about the CD fundraiser but that was about it. I didn’t like when you started to complain about your roommates, talk about your family, lie, and bring up old topics. It’s not the same…it feels broken.
Speaking of broken, I broke my ankle there. We where both grumpy, it was Cinco de Mayo. I was running down the stairs to answer the door and I fell. You didn’t even come by to check on me, one of your roommates did. That hurt…a lot. Because of the broken ankle I had to stay in Texas and had surgery. I had the worst summer; you had the best. You in a few words told me I ruined your summer. Thanks.
Stop telling me things, I don’t care you need go move your car. Before I would have gone with you and then we would go to Altera. But we’re broken. We act like we always did- fake. Well, we weren’t fake with each other back then. My “little sister” said we acted the same, that’s because we’re so good at being fake. Not just with each other but with everyone else.
You broke our friendship like someone fires a client. There were no feelings; it was strictly business. You said focus on the future and not the past. I said I thought of you like my family here, you shrugged and said blankly, “Then well, I’m not your family anymore.” I wasn’t okay then, but I’m better now. I cried because I was broken and furious. I was mad I didn’t break you first. Today you act as if you never said anything. We’ve had our share of fights and such, but we always got through it. I can’t pretend this was nothing. Maybe we just spent too much time with each other. Things always have to end, break, or whatever. It sucks, but I have to be selfish (like you said) and think of myself.