12

It is a selfish kind of concern, in which I care less about you and more about whether you care about me.

11.

This is probably healthier, to leave with a smile and light nonchalance. Thank you for always coming over and removing any insecurities I have about our friendship. This is all we need - friends.

10.

I remember telling myself that I wanted to meet a guy who didn't like to text. I felt that it was risky to hang emotions and promises along the lines of 21st century pixels. It just didn't feel sturdy enough.

Then I found you. And you made me feel like taking my words back - how I wish I could talk to you 24/7, even if the wind were to quickly blow my words away.

9

You burned the script and wrote your own - I am not sure if it is better or worse than mine. All I know is that nothing -absolutely nothing, you throw me off like the hurricane you are, I would say you blow me away but it does not capture the pain of falling - has happened as I had expected. You give me the worse and best surprises.

8

Never acknowledging your presence - if you are offended, I am sorry. I am just afraid, irrationally. 

7.

I would say that this was never meant to happen but that would be a half-lie. From the very beginning, I made the conscious decision to stay close - and since then, it has been difficult to do otherwise.

How was I to know that you were a tangled frenzy of emotions, drifting through like a thunderstorm - intermittent flashes? Could I have expected that hurt and longing was what seeped through the paper boundaries, rendering those in proximity disorientated and sometimes empty? 

It is difficult to judge the "what if"s when the times for choices have long come and gone. I am far too late.

6

Acutely aware. Thus the paradox of avoiding someone while hoping they'll notice you. 

5.

You're not worth all of this.

4.

I think of you too often. I imagine everything we could be. I think of the secrets I will tell you and the embarrassing moments you will laugh at.

Tonight, I might dream of you.

You will dream of someone else.

3.

I never understood our relationship from the start.

And maybe that is why I still hope, why I cling on to things that might not exist.

If you don't know how rain falls, you could imagine that it was the perspiration of dancing clouds.

If I don't know how much I mean to you, I could imagine that I mean the world.

2.

He will send me hearts of blue, green, yellow and purple - all but the red one. 

Perhaps it is still reserved for her, perhaps it hurts too much to open the wound. 

But who needs red? It is the colour of blood and sores, of things freshly broken. 

I am thankful for the rainbow. 

1.

I cannot tell you "you don't know how much this hurts" because you do know. You know it better than me. You reached that point of tears and walked back, slowly, bruised heart in your hand.

I am only halfway there. But it is more than enough.

It is disadvantageous to myself, to rely on your company like this.

I am guilty. I fear I use our friendship for my own secret means. But it is difficult.

This is not logical. The logical step would be to walk out. But that is difficult too. I don't want to.

There is no real pain, there are no tears, and I am not torn. I feel like I am being blanketed by what is dull and grey. It seeps into your nerves and numbs you, slightly. It is a dull pain. I feel like I am being destroyed slowly.

It is a subtle form of sorrow, the kind that is hard to complain about. There is nothing real to it, nothing sharp, nothing rusted. If it were a wound, it would be but the size of a needle's diameter. But the lifeblood trickles out slowly.

I will live and continue to live. Nothing has changed.