(no subject)
Her head was spinning.
Has she actually done what she thought she had done?
She had given in. She had called and asked to be friends. Make a mence. She wanted things to be "okay".
He didn't want that. He didn't want a friendship. He felt she wasn't over him. "Still Attached" he had said.
She was hurt.
Why couldn't they be friends?
Their conversation ended, and she was left to her thoughts.
Why was is that she needed this friendship?
Why did she need to be friends with this one person, when she had a world of other, more concerned companions?
Why did this one matter?
What was so important about holding onto the hurt? Onto the memories? Onto the torment? Why was she beating herself up?
Then it hit her.
Bright, and cruel epiphany.
She didn't need his friendship; She wanted his friendship.
She had been holding onto the past. A notion. A memory.
She didn't need him to be who she wanted to be.
She felt powerful. She felt strong. It had all come to her.
She picked up the phone and mechanically dialed the once so frequent pattern into the phone pad, and heard his voice answer.
"I don't need your friendship. I'd like it, but I don't need it."
And that's all there was to it.
As they said goodbye, and parted for the last time, she felt the huge dart of guilt and torment dislodge itself from the bull's-eye of her heart. It was over. She had let go, and done it all herself. She was invincible, and feeling oddly optimistic.
This was the end.
This was the closure she thought she would never have, and she had finally made peace with her demon.
As her metaphoric pool drained itself of all it's drowning sorrow, she felt a cool breath seep into her body.
This was a new day. A new time.
And from the ashes of her flamed past, a new life was about to be born.
Has she actually done what she thought she had done?
She had given in. She had called and asked to be friends. Make a mence. She wanted things to be "okay".
He didn't want that. He didn't want a friendship. He felt she wasn't over him. "Still Attached" he had said.
She was hurt.
Why couldn't they be friends?
Their conversation ended, and she was left to her thoughts.
Why was is that she needed this friendship?
Why did she need to be friends with this one person, when she had a world of other, more concerned companions?
Why did this one matter?
What was so important about holding onto the hurt? Onto the memories? Onto the torment? Why was she beating herself up?
Then it hit her.
Bright, and cruel epiphany.
She didn't need his friendship; She wanted his friendship.
She had been holding onto the past. A notion. A memory.
She didn't need him to be who she wanted to be.
She felt powerful. She felt strong. It had all come to her.
She picked up the phone and mechanically dialed the once so frequent pattern into the phone pad, and heard his voice answer.
"I don't need your friendship. I'd like it, but I don't need it."
And that's all there was to it.
As they said goodbye, and parted for the last time, she felt the huge dart of guilt and torment dislodge itself from the bull's-eye of her heart. It was over. She had let go, and done it all herself. She was invincible, and feeling oddly optimistic.
This was the end.
This was the closure she thought she would never have, and she had finally made peace with her demon.
As her metaphoric pool drained itself of all it's drowning sorrow, she felt a cool breath seep into her body.
This was a new day. A new time.
And from the ashes of her flamed past, a new life was about to be born.