2001-09-01

"I'm not in love, it's just a silly phase I'm going through." That's what I told him, that's what I told myself. I lie to myself a lot, in order to make life bearable. It's easier to lie than anything else. Why do you think I never told the nurses in the hospital about him? Because I'm ashamed, because I'm heartbroken. Because I'm ashamed of being heartbroken, considering that it should've been only a 'silly phase'. I'm tired of wanting what I can never have. So I shut up and be quiet about it, like it'd take everything away. It doesn't. It doesn't even help much. I can fool myself but not after a certain point. Not every night.

So, I wait for his letters and they never arrive. I'm mad at him, but more mad at myself because I dare to hope something from him. Oh, yeah, I'm a friend. But who doesn't write to even his friends? I'm fucking mad to think I could be something special for him. I'll always be a friend, probably, except if I get mad at him not writing, after which I probably wouldn't even be a friend. And I don't know if it's worse to be a friend with someone you love or not be a friend. If I wasn't a friend, I didn't have to hope. I didn't have to be heartbroken. I didn't have to... be nice and friendly and god knows what when all I want to do is yell and scream and hit him with something. Because I'm the best he could ever have. Really. He just has to realize it.

And he won't realize it. Who am I kidding? I know I'm not the one for him, and I'll never be. And it's so stupid to love someone who doesn't love you back. To love someone who doesn't even bother to keep in touch with his friends. (Oh, how nice to be his friend.)

And what am I doing? Sitting here, grieving over something that could've been, but never was and never will be. I don't do zilch to get over him. But it's so hard... it's so hard to step out of that door, and think of everyone as a potential lover. And it's twice as hard when you don't know how to talk to people, and when you mostly enjoy being alone. That way a lover on another continent would be just fine for me. Some emotional bonding but not too much. In the end, I want to be alone. It makes me anxious to think someone should love me here. And then, why am I fooling myself into believing that I even could love someone? And how am I supposed to describe it other than as a 'silly phase'?

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