The word sorry does nothing but piss me off. Congratulations, you have officially made me hate that word. You did something wrong. And you say sorry. No. Don’t give me that bull. Sorry so the ball is in my court? Sorry to make me think you really are, when we all know you have done this before. Sorry so that you can get another pass to do it again? How about shove the sorry up your behind. How about do something about it. How about don’t tell me sorry and just prove that you really are. Because I’m getting really tired of it. I’m tired to the point where I don’t even want to see your face anymore. Because everytime I do, it’s like the word “sorry” is written all over your face. I just want to smack it. I’m starting to hate you as much as I hate that word. Prove me wrong, or stay away from me.
One day, I hope you look back at what we had, and regret every single thing you did to let it end. When you chose to look at the “neighbor’s grass”, and always said it was greener. Instead of taking care of what you have, you drooled over what you did not. I hope you regret choosing to be around people who you think is cool, rather than staying with the one who would wait for you when you come home, always leaving the lights on for you. You had it all, you just did not realize it. I hope you regret putting me right at the bottom of your every list. I hope you realize that you lost someone who you could come home to after an exhausting day. I hope you regret leaving me out in the open knowing I trusted you with my emotions and my heart. I hope one you regret everything. And when you realize that you have made a mistake, it will be too late.
You know when someone lies and lies and lies, you sit there and act like you’re interested in listening but really you’re just thinking, “wow, you’re a hell of an actor. How can you lie so good. ” You sit there and think of how many times you’ve tried to lie but you just couldn’t. It takes a true talent I guess. But that feeling that you have when you’re listening to them and in your head you’re thinking, “Man, you are so full of shit. ” You don’t say anything. You just let them finish. You listen. You don’t notice but you start to squint your eyes. It’s funny. It’s a funny feeling and at the same time it’s a satisfying one too. To catch someone. To really see through their bs. You smile again. And just say “oh wow.. Cool.” Then your mind starts to wander. Do you call them out? Or do you walk away satisfied with your closure right there. Realizing that you’ve already wasted more than enough time, knowing you’re far better than that person?
It’s mid afternoon. Usually when you did not have to go to work, you would convince me to lay in bed almost all day until I tell you that my head is starting to hurt from laying down too much. You loved sleep so much and I loved you just as much. So sometimes I would say yes and watch you sleep. I have always wondered how you did not get headaches from sleeping too much. You were different. More often than not you chose to go to a park and take a walk with me and only me, rather than to hang out with other people. You liked to be alone, you said. I was your home and you were mine. You were my best friend and we just clicked like that.
It’s mid afternoon and our home that used to be full of love and warmth feels so empty and quiet. I hear nothing but the clock ticking and my heart still racing. I wonder where you are. I still cannot bare to absorb the fact that you may be not thinking about me. Even when you have already told me that I was not on your mind anymore. I sit here in front of these papers that you have decided to serve me and my cup of half way full of coffee that already went cold. It has been sitting here since this morning when I decided to sit and attempted to understand how this is all happening and what is going to happened next. So far I have not gotten anywhere yet. I cannot feel my legs and my cheeks are numb. Where are you?
It’s mid afternoon and I want you to come home and tell me that this is all a bad dream, or tell me this is all a mistake and take everything you said to me back and try to make me forget. I need you to come home and wipe my tears away and tell me everything is okay because you are here now. I want to feel safe again but I feel so vulnerable. Infact, I have fallen alone and I am in pieces all over the floor. My chest feels like I am 40 feet deep under water. I am barely breathing.
It’s mid afternoon and I am holding a pen. My hand is sweating. Has been since this morning. Do we really have to do this? Is she that especial that you have decided to trade everything for her?