You cannot ragequit a friendship. I mean, you can, but it sucks and it hurts.
But, regardless of the fact that your absence makes me want to stab myself in the eyeballs with rusty sporks, I still hope you’re happy. I hope you find someone who doesn’t hurt you, who makes you happy, and who can love you the way you need to be loved. I hope your life sucks a lot less, starting now.
“The saddest kind of sad is the sad that tries not to be sad. You know, when Sad tries to bite its lip and not cry and smile and go, “No, I’m happy for you.” That’s when it’s really sad.”
—John Mayer
Dear J
I get to see you tomorrow. I wish I could share with you how my laughter bubbles over at the thought. I wish I knew if you were happy, too. I’ll probably think about you every minute between now and then, even when I’m lying next to A in our bed. This lessens the giddiness considerably, so I’m actually pretty glad you don’t know that part.
Initiative
Sometimes I wonder how I would initiate an affair with J. “I’m in love with you. Let’s fuck”?
Sometimes I wonder how I would break the news to A. “I love you, but…”?
Sometimes I wonder how A would look if I told him. What his reaction would be. Angry, probably, and hurt. The anger I could handle. I’ve made him angry before. But the hurt… the hurt would crush me.
I didn’t make this, I just found it in my depressing pics folder. Yes, I have a depressing pictures folder on my computer xD
Rational
I try to be rational about this. I make a pros and cons list. Which is better? This is a stupid question. A is who I have, J is who I can’t have. That’s the answer. But the *feeling* I get from J. A is wonderful and nearly perfect. J makes me quiver with anticipation, makes me sit up at night imagining replaying our conversations in my head, makes me dream in technicolor. And so I keep playing this game with myself. I can’t stop it. To let J out of my life would be like going back to black and white. Could you do that to yourself? I can’t summon the courage to let go of something I don’t even have.
tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?
Pressed unsteadily against a sliding glass door watching the raccoons outside eat our cats’ food, wearing footy pyjamas.
Choices
J and I went out last night. I can’t stop thinking about him. It makes every moment I’m with A seem hollow. The shitty thing is, I believe love is a choice. It’s more than a feeling. It’s a series of shitty choices you make in which you choose that one person over everything that makes sense. When you stop choosing that person, you stop loving them. And I chose A. But I can’t stop thinking about J. My choices are starting to be about J. Where does that leave me? Where does that leave us?
