26 декември, 2013


Merry Christmas!
I must love the holidays, for they bring to me presents I never thoughts would bring me such joy. I've spend the year trying to escape, at least half of it and then I got back to my writing and reading and forgot about all the messed up things around me. But they kept showing up and they still do. Because on Christmas night I spent three hours of fun with someone who broke me in a way that can never be fully undone. And I enjoyed every second of it, while the person who was supposed to make me happy was with his ex and some other friends, being an awesome friend or whatever.
All the irony... I repeat and take a deep breath, as I realise how pointless my efforts to keep us together have been. Because you are there for me, most of the time, but not when I really need you. And you keep lying to me which after all my lying to other people I deserve, but not from you. And then you say "meet me in ten years and I will be whoever you want me to be, because now I have more important things to think about". Once again, people should come with long lists of things they are capable of doing to you. Everything should be said upfront. Because you were supposed to be the good guy and pick up all the pieces, not break every single one of them. You were supposed to be here for me, with me, because of me. And it was supposed to be simple, even boring, but happy. The point is to be happy. Me? I'm okay, but I'm not happy. But how do I pick up all the pieces of you lying on the bed next to me, leaving the TV on until you fall asleep, of you putting your arms around me and holding me close to you, of you calling my name?
Moreover, I wish I had done something to deserve it all. I wish I'd done bad things for all the things that happened to me because of what somebody wanted. People love taking me for granted and forget about me when there is something better to do. And my mistake is letting them do so. I let them all come and invite them do destroy me. People leave, people lie, people destroy all the beauty in everything. I find such beauty in already broken things but no one ever finds it in me. And I wish I had the chance to talk about it with the right person without crying as if it's already over. But it hurts almost as if it is. You gave up on me as well, even though you knew how bad it hurt me when someone else did so before. You gave up on me as if I am not at all that important, as if everything we had together never mattered. You know... I never give up, I never run away... And I get to be left behind with all my used-to-bes and efforts in vain. Then again ... What's new around here. Same old story ever told - mine. I might as well start finding cats and a big house where we will live in with all my books and cats. Screw eternity and love. Fictional characters will always be there for me.