I wouldn't say a lot happened, but I guess when people don't have to study, shit is stirred.
I know this person won't read my blog but that's why I'm writing it. However, I can't help but use second person because it just doesn't feel the same; so here it is:
A few nights ago, I laid in bed thinking about you. Thinking about how we used to make jokes about each other, how you used to call me all the time for the littlest things, like that time we talked for an hour about how you didn't know what to do cause you really wanted to tell this girl that you liked her. I even saved the birthday message you sent to me and read it again that night, and nearly cried cause it was something inside that made me sad that we were so close as friends and maybe something happened to you to make us fall apart. I was worried, and all along I told people not to confront you about it cause I didn't wanna seem nosy or anything.
Then do you know what I heard the next day? I heard youve been telling everyone about the things I've told you when we were best of friends. Things that I haven't told anyone before, the secrets that I told you not to tell anyone. It fucking hurt to know that you treated me like that, that you actually fucking hate me. Really, what the fuck did I ever do to you. Maybe say a few mean things, take jokes a bit too far, but do I deserve to be treated like this? Just cause I'm not your friend anymore, do you need to spread shit about me? At first it made me really mad, but now I just laugh at myself while I'm crying cause I'm so fucking stupid to have thought that we had a thing. Who the fuck are you, what did I ever fucking do.
And this is why I didn't trust anyone. This is why there's more reason not to fucking trust anyone again.
I don't feel like studying/making notes so let's write a story (which will be unfinished as usual) :)
I turn from facing the wall, to facing the clock, and back again. The clock reads 2.33am and the restlessness still tickles my body from the inside and the fatigue pulls my eyelids closed from the outside. But it's not darkness I see, it's the memories replaying like a broken record. Memories of the times you put your arms around me and we laughed hysterically over stupid jokes. Memories of when you held my face in your hands and kissed me gently. It's true what they say. You don't want it until it's gone, so all I'm left with, is memories of hyperbolised happiness and selective recounts.
You usually hear forgive but don't forget. But I'm the other way round. I lie here torturing myself with all the happy memories, not having forgiven the people I left, but only forgotten their mistakes and only seek to remember the best. I feel the pain of weights hanging off my shoulders and my chest, I hear my heart's complaints of the weights as each beat drains its strength. My body wants to surrender and fall it a deep trance of sleep. My mind tortures my body, so painful so close to death, but never there. Just a little longer, it says, just a little longer until you die.
I lose track of the time as the memories keep replaying vividly through my mind.
Then finally, I fall asleep. The mind games are over. The torture is over.
oh i did finish it, lewl first time in a while
I've written enough for today, enjoy the rest of your day :)