Chapter 1
Had it ever occurred to you that a smile is none other than a mask? That it solely hides the truth that lurks deep inside the caverns of the heart? It is a mask of what we truly wish to be and yet are scared to become.
Someone had once told me the best story written is the one you have lived. However, what happens when your story is anything besides happy? Is it still the best story? Is it something more? Maybe the tears on a page of the book are what gives it character and charm. Sometimes our fate is in the hands of others, does that mean the story is too?
“Maeve, get out of your room and do something for once.” yells my mother.
“Yeah yeah, Mom. I’m doing homework still. I have a lot.” I snap back.
“I wish you wouldn’t be so miserable all the time.”
“Yeah Mom, well it isn’t my fault…” I mutter to my Mother who has already walked downstairs.
Do I really have homework? Nope. My ‘essay’ is me sitting nestled up in a million blankets on my bed watching season three of Grey's Anatomy on netflix. Truth is, I really do not feel like associating myself with family, or friends for that matter. Mostly everything is meaningless right now. The only occupying topics that keep my interest and my lucidity are my bestfriend, my favorite television shows and music.
Music is everlastingly there for me when it seems like no one else is. That is why I am so fond of it. The lyrics of songs convey the words to the story you have tangled in your brain that you are unable to make audible. The key of a song sets the color of your thoughts. The beating of the drum conducts the tempo of your heart. Why should anyone be confined to inconsiderate people when you are able to have the song that understands you better than others understand you?
Ugh it’s already 11:00. I will never discern how time works. One moment can either drag on and feel like an eternity or it can flash by faster than you can say “gone.” I wish I knew what controlled time-- what decided how quickly it would move. Wouldn’t it be an exhilarating honor to be holding the metrodome of time in your hands? Well here is a deranged thought-- maybe we already do and it is inside of our minds instead of under our fingertips. Time is an illusion. It naturally does not exist. Yet it is an unwritten law of the universe. Whoever thought of the idea must have been considered some sort of witch that was trying to cast a spell by inserting this new measurement of nothing into our clueless bodies.
I glance up at the clock-- 11:01. See what I mean?
I have nothing more desireable to do but close my eyes. At least in my dreams time does not prevail and there is no hourglass trickling down the seconds of my life that I have remaining to live.
Chapter 2
If I am endlessly on my phone, you can bet money on the fact that I will be talking to my best friend. Elizabeth and I do everything together. It is invariably us and rarely do we mix it up with more people. When it comes down to it, she truly is my ride or die. I would not want anyone else to be by my side in life. We have been inseparable since our first day of kindergarten. It turns out that not only are our personalities compatible but we have a connection that is on such a profound level. We both have troubled families, (not household family). That is pretty much the only thing we talk about in a personal manner. We are not very open people and do not prefer to talk about our own sensibility. We get along very well because of that. We regard each other the way we do ourselves. That may or may not have something to do with our corresponding resemblance, minus looks obviously. Elizabeth is taller than me. We are both angular, but I am much more robust. She is all academics meaning she is not into extracurricular sports or music. I am immensely involved with those activities, and because of it my grades deteriorate as hers flourish. (She has more time to kill). She is blonde and I am brunette. The two of us are together with harmony, all while backpacking the same weight. I am skeptic towards the word ‘perfect’. I can comprehend that people bear idiosyncratic peculiarities. However, let me tell you, I can not conceptualize anything more pristine and ‘perfect’ than our inseparable relationship.
Chapter 3
The next day at school I stroll into the treacherous cafeteria laughing with Elizabeth. We are talking about how over the weekend we were constructing fantasy scenarios late at night. It was amusing because they are so farfetched that there is no way they will ever happen.
We begin to approach our lunch table. Then I see him. A tall, athletic boy who is stunning mind you, and just so happens to be sitting at our table alongside our other two friends; Liam and Dylan.
“Hey I’m Maeve and this is Elizabeth” I say, introducing us.
“Oh hey,” speaks his pale lips, “I’m Cole.”
Cole... I like it.
Elizabeth and I just smile and nod in acknowledgement while looking at each other. I swear we are the most blundering people at times. We sit down, one on each side of him. It’s like we are surrounding him to catch him if he ran away. Not that he would, but you know, just covering our bases.
“Maeve, Lizzy, Cole is going to sit with us now okay? He is one of our good friends that you guys just haven’t met yet.” says Dylan.
“Ohhhh,” I say, “I get it. Cole how much are you getting paid from his mom to be his friend?”
“Maeve!” interjects Dylan.
“What? We all know you don’t have friends.”  I snarl.
“Well… rude.”
“I’m getting five bucks a day, twenty when I have to hang out with him.” surprisingly responds Cole.
“Haha! Look he is already on our side.” I cheer with joy.
“That is not even fair I hate you all.”
“It’s okay Dylan, it could be worse.” speaks Liam.
“How?”
“Well, he could decline that low of an amount to put up with you.”
“Wow.” sarcastically says Dylan as the rest of us break out in tears of laughter.
“You fit right in, Cole.” responds Elizabeth.
Later that night I am on the phone with Elizabeth. We are talking about our day when we finally fall upon the topic I really want to talk about.
“So this Cole kid…” she says questionably.
“He seems like someone I undeniably want to get to know.” I say back.
Our conversation aspires on ways to approach him without the others around. What do we do? Just say hi? That just feels so outlandish. We spend our night planning out how much our lives would change with a new person in the picture. Also during all of this we are gathering his social media accounts, phone number, and whatever else seemed reasonable. (The means by which we acquire this information is not relevant).
On this particular night I fall asleep picturing the stars that I had seen in his alluring blue eyes.
I wake up the next morning to the thoughts of him racing through my head as if it were the finish line of a horse race. Something about him just seems right. I know I have to talk to him.
Upon arriving at school, I come to realize that Elizabeth is not there. How dare she leave me like this. As I proceed into lunch I immediately become irritated. Here we go again, same old crummy lunch, same old obnoxious people in my way, same old… wait-- Cole is in our lunch. I make my way over to our table and pop a squat into the open chair besides him.
“So how long have you known the other guys?” I ask.
“Well, we have been friends all throughout middle school.” reply those pale lips.
“Haha well I bet you have some pretty interesting stories about that.” I joke.
“You can count on that. Even more pictures to go along with them.”
This is it. This is my chance to get his number.
“Oh my gosh you have got to send them to me, here put your number in my phone.” I say as I force my phone onto his tray.
Chapter 4
When I get home from school I text him. It is slightly awkward at first but then we talk for hours. We talk about our favorite foods. Our favorite music. Our birthdays. Favorite holidays. We play twenty questions on steroids and we play it over and over again. We never seem to run out of questions or thoughts to keep our conversation alive. The best part is, we both respond within a minute of receiving the latest text. So when I say we talk for hours, I mean we have over 300 meaningful text messages.
I normally go to bed around ten o’clock, but I am so invested in the general interest we have in each other that I completely lose track of the time. Before we know it, it is one in the morning. We both immediately agree to doze off and continue our exploration tomorrow.
I slowly begin to slip into something that I will eventually face great strife attempting to get out of. We talk steadily everyday. We fill our conversations with random thoughts, stories about our lives, secrets, and plans to go on many adventures together in the years to come. We spend hours conceiving a scenario between us that is more than likely never to see results-- but we do it nevertheless.
Cole is always instantaneous to compliment me. His words linger in my mind.
“You’re so beautiful.” he always says.
I tell him about all of my flaws, or at least what I consider flaws. I told him how I loath the scars from my cats and my smile. From then on he has yet to let me say a pessimistic thing about myself without countering the thought with positive reinforcement.
I have not received any compliment that is as genuine as Cole’s have always been. That and I have never been able to tease someone in a playful manner. He appreciates my humor and he retaliates back at me utilizing the same sarcastic tone. We seem to be so boorish towards each other but authentically we are just partaking in our undeniably rare minds.
He confides in me just as I do to him. I tell him about the baggage that I was never able to disclose to anyone else. I elucidate the problems occurring within my foolish family. How my parents dispute regularly. How they always bring me down. Each day I have a new story to tell him about the freshest argument. He simply listens to me, and reassures me that he will always be there even if I feel like no one else is. He is a little bit more stubborn with opening up, however. Some people are open books. Others have words written in such a fine print that you miss a lot of the detail. He is a book written in the smallest of all prints, but I am taking a magnifying glass and going over every single line until I understand the entire story. He will have to accept that.
This network was beyond the capacity of some people's psyche. They would view us as siblings and others assume us to be in a relationship. Our bonds are so strong that our physical connection comes naturally into our being. This is the cause behind the rioted rumours.
“Cole you’re such an idiot.” I claim.
“Thanks Maeve! I learned from you.” he interjects.
When someone calls you an idiot, you know it is legitimate because that person knows that you can be stupid, but decides to put up with it anyways. That is exactly what is happening with us. We know how crazy the other is and we understand each other's flaws well enough to embrace them and therefore embrace each other.
It is hard to wrap my head around the fact that we evoked as strangers, and as nothing more. When we both put in the effort to learn about someone else we became presumably two of the closest friends anyone has ever encountered.
He looks at me the way every girl wishes a guy would stare and I am the most elated I have ever been. Unambiguously nothing can damage the towering concrete walls of our friendship.
Chapter 5
He is staring at her. His eyes full of stars glisten--at her. He is solely concerned about sitting next--to her. It's true. I do not want it to be, but I know he likes her. I may be quiet but I am not blind.
Later in the evening I am talking to him as always, when I decide to ask the question that I hope to be responded to with a no.
“So do you like her?”
“Like who…?”
“You know who, Elizabeth.”
There is such a long pause that seems as if he holds the power to freeze time and he is trying to buy himself a moment to think it all through.
“Yeah, I do.”
This time it is me that pauses as all of the air escapes my lungs almost as quickly as my smile leaves my face.
“Oh, that's nice.”
“Maeve, I know you aren't going to like this and that is why nothing will happen between us.”
“Don't be silly. I have never stopped you from doing anything, Cole. I just have opinions and if you want to hear them I give them to you, but I always encourage you to follow what you think is right.”
I may sound like I do not care too much, but oh trust me I most certainly do. He distorts when he is in a relationship. He becomes less subjective to jokes. Less encouraging. More uptight and cantankerous. That is only towards the people he is not fixated on, however. It is like a carnival mirror. Look at him from one angle and you will see the true him. Look at him from a 45 and see something so out of character that makes you want to forget about it all. Elizabeth and I always discuss this matter. How if he dated someone we were good friends with we would not be happy because, one, he'd change towards us, and two, he would cause some tension. We also discuss how even though he is our definition of perfect, we would not date him due to all of these imperfections that we are not blinded to. I need to know if she likes him.
“But Maeve, you mean everything to me. I do not want to lose you-- ever. I promise you I will do anything to keep you in my life.”
“Just because you like someone does not mean you are going to lose me. I am not going anywhere. You are my best friend. I will never leave you.”
In the midst of all of this, I am also texting Elizabeth.
“Hey Lizzy, can I ask you something?”
“Yea, what’s up?”
“Do you like Cole?”
The same heart stopping silence falls onto our conversation.
“I think I might.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“I don’t think I will date him though. We both know how he changes and the way he acts. It’s annoying.”
“Yeah I know it is annoying.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Ok.”
Well they genuinely like each other. I cannot believe this is happening. If they date he is going to change. I am going to be erased off of his ‘things to care about’ list. Nothing will be the same.
A day or so later Cole texts me.
“Maeve, I really like her. A lot. I want to get her out of my head but no matter what I do I can’t. She is always there, just smiling and being herself and I don’t know what to do. I need you to help me.”
I never speculated I would be in this position, here, right now. I either shatter my own heart or break his. I can’t fabricate the truth and say he doesn’t have a chance. I’m at the point where I need to choose between his happiness and my own.
Not taking more than just a few seconds, I formulated my response.
“Cole, I want you to be happy. If you truly feel this passionate about her then go for it. It could be good for you. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hold back. Just do whatever it is your heart is telling you.”
“But what could go wrong?”
“Honestly, it could ruin your friendship with her. It could ruin our friendship, too. But don’t think of all the bad what ifs. Think, what if everything works out? What if this is your shot at falling in love? What if no one gets hurt and we all live happily ever after?”
“I don’t want to lose you, and not all stories have happy endings.”
“It’s your story. The pen is in your hand, and you can write the ending however you chose to do so.”
“Thanks Maeve, I love you.”
“I love you too, Cole. Don’t do anything you don’t want to do, but don’t let anyone, or anything, ever hold you back.”
I just want him to be happy.
Chapter 6
The following day Cole seems fine. He is ecstatic. So is Elizabeth, but there is no need to anguish yet-- nothing is official. I’m still anticipating that nothing will come out of all this. I must not let that impede on my ability to be content beside by two best friends. Very scarcely are we all so cheerful. Usually there’s always one of us that is somber that we try to make feel better.
We are after school today for our one club that we are all involved in. After the meeting Cole and Elizabeth start walking a little bit hastily away from me. Taking the hint, I lag behind and watch. They seem to be having a bound and determined conversation. This cannot be happening. All of a sudden they smile, laugh a bit and start to glance around to see where I was lurking.
“So Maeve, uh, we are officially dating.” explained Coles’ pale lips.
“Ah nice guys. I’ll see you later, my mom is here to get me.” I stealthily replied.
It indeed just happened. In front of my own two eyes.
I’m just overreacting though. I just need to regain my composure. Nothing careless will happen, we are too much of superb friends for nonsense to occur from dating people.
After I began to eat dinner, Cole texted me.
“Heyyy Maeve!” it read.
“Heyy what’s up?”
“Sitting at the table waiting to be fed. Listen I’m so happy about all of this. I have my best friend and now my girlfriend too. I couldn’t imagine anything being better than it is right now.”
“Haha yeah I’m glad everything is working out for you.”
We continue to ramble on and on about anything and everything, just like before. I knew nothing would change.
The next month or so nothing is different. Cole and I still hang out. Elizabeth and I still do, too. The only variation is that they seem to be happier, which only in return makes me happier also.
As the time progresses I start to sense the feeling that I’m being a bothersome towards them. Like they do not want me around them. Cole and I make plans to hang out, but last minute he cancels on me for ‘family reasons’. Well I believe my best friend doesn’t trust me around her boyfriend. Which makes precisely zero sense. Anyway, the feeling hasn’t gone away. It has only gotten more vigorous.
Before you know it they are always together. They never look as if they have time for me. It’s like I fell off the face of the Earth, only I didn’t and I’m standing right in front of them. It’s not like they would see me though, in order to find something you have to be looking for it in the first place.
I’m being nudged out of their lives. I know I am. I texted Cole.
“Cole, I feel like you guys are leaving me out and pushing me out of your lives… I don’t know what to do. I’m really wistful about everything that is happening with this.”
“Maeve what are you talking about? You’re the one that is taking yourself away from us.”
“Why in the world would I do that?”
“You would do that because you’re jealous. You can’t handle it so you pull back and now you’re trying to blame it on me.”
“I am not jealous, Cole. You’re my best friend along with Elizabeth. I’m happy for you guys but I just wish you wouldn’t be so obsessed with each other.”
“Stop lying, Maeve. You know the truth. I gotta go, bye.”
I feel like a knife is being thrusted through my back and pulled out of the front of my heart. I didn’t do anything. I know the truth and what Cole said is not it. I need someone to talk to. I have to text Delia. Delia is a mutual friend of us all.
“Delia, I have no idea how to feel right now. Everything in the beginning months were okay, but recently they’re shoving me away.”
“Maybe you should talk to them about it. It could help.”
“I have tried. You don’t understand, Cole told me that they are not forcing me out of their lives and I’m just backing out. He yelled at me.”
“I honestly don’t understand that, you’re right. You never did anything wrong to them. You are such an amazing friend. They loved you so much.”
“Keyword, ‘loved’. I guess as their love grows for each other, they have to take it from other things-- I’m their thing.”
“Maeve don’t worry. They will realize what they are doing eventually.”
I try to neglect the facts. I try so hard to not denounce to everyone else about what they are doing to me. I just can’t go one second without having these thoughts cross my mind like a person crossing a busy intersection. It gets me so anxious. I try to talk to Delia more about it. For a while she plays along, but it has gotten to the point where she is telling me to annihilate it all and move on.
Move on.
How do you move on from friendships like these? Elizabeth and I have been together since birth. We have gone through every little thing together. She was always there. More recently, Cole and I have been so close. It doesn’t matter who I’ve known longest, time is not a measurement of love. They both equally mean enough to me that this is tearing me apart from the inside out.
I think she might be appropriate with her advice. I can’t keep watering the dead plant in hopes it will grow back.
Chapter 7
Losing both of the people you are always with at the same time is very hard. They have pushed me to the point where we don’t even say hello in the halls. I pass them as we are walking out to the busses and I look back one last time, knowing that things will never be the same. As I turn my head back, a wave of emotion comes over me that rushes through my head and straight to the back of my eyes. Then the wave crashes, sending one single tear rolling down my cheek, thus leaving me emotionless. I am paralyzed in my thoughts. It is as if nothing exists -- or maybe, it’s that I do not exist. Looking back for a final time signalled a freeze ray that stunned me into something invisible, dull and lifeless to both myself and the world around me. Millions of thoughts are racing through my head. Why me--what did I do wrong-- it has to be my fault--but it is not my fault. Now the haunting memories start to graze my restless mind. Ten years. Ten years of happiness, of laughter, of idiotic stupidity and of simply everything that two best friends shared. My best friends are destroying me in the most beautiful way possible. As I am being abandoned, I finally start to understand why storms are named after people.
The absolute worst thing is pretending you don't care at all, but I am trying my very best. Wasting days hiding in my room crying myself to sleep while thinking about the past. I try to come up with an elaborate plan to heal the open wounds of the fight between them. I keep re-reading the calamity that is officially my life. How are my best friends just walking away? How does a person simply wake up and decide that someone isn't as important to them anymore? I want to understand. I need closure.
  You can miss someone who died. You can miss someone that moved away. But how do you miss someone that you see every single day? The hardest thing of all is looking at the people that used to consume the entirety of your time, and seeing them doing perfectly fine. There is not a chance our friendships were going to change to what it was before. I get the guts to speak out to my best friends and try to explore the reason behind the quarrel. That does not work. There is just no talking to them about it all. Somehow, it is always said how it is my fault for backing away. What they never understood is it was their actions that forced me to do so. However, at this point I have gotten enough guts to do the most complicated thing of all. I am deciding it is time to move on.
I walk with new people. I go to my activities which cause me to become very jubilant alongside the people that fill the room. Each time as I am leaving, I remember how none of those people are my best friends. My smile turns into blankness yet again. It is amazing how someone could be breaking my heart, yet I still love them with all the pieces. I try to pull myself up and force a few laughs to feel better again, but the scrutiny of my best friend is refusing to leave me alone. I think maybe the next day will be better.
It isn’t.
The days turn into nights and not long after it all started I am finding myself eating away all of my time and tears on the one that doesn’t blink twice at the sight of me. I know that my dreary days are holding me back. That I am being caged behind memories of a fool's paradise while my best friends already threw out the key. I stare at the wall housing the depictions of the now fond illusion and let my mind talk to me. I know I will not be happy waiting. I know that it is more than likely that I am waiting for nothing. I know it is time to move on. I know I have to do it, for my sanity and my happiness.
No longer will I sadden when I see my ex-bestfriends. No longer will I wait for the never to come hello. I know there is a fat chance of change. I am ready to accept that. I dive into a new a look of my life. Swimming in new friendships, new memories to be made, and new old happy feelings. It is finally time to stop dwelling on the bad in my life and focus my eyes on all the good.
I do well in school. I am self-starting. I succeed in most everything I do. I do not give less than 100% in anything, especially friendships. I am the best at what I do and what I do is simply be uniquely myself. My silly laugh, alluring face, and uncommon groupings of activities make me odd. But not a bad odd. An intriguing odd that leave people wanting to know more about the mysterious beauty of a soul.
There are people that talk to me daily that I did not pay much mind to before, but they are there for me.
Those people are my real friends.
I am not alone like I had been thinking for sometime now. I never was.
Now that the blindfold of useless hopes has come off of my puffy eyes, I see that. I see that the people that matter in my life at this very moment are right there beside me. Those who matter don’t mind my unusual mentality and my need of a reminder that they care. Those that do, well, they should simply no longer matter... The problem is, they still do and forever will. I don’t think that’ll ever change.
Didn’t you guys used to be best friends? Kills me every single time. Along with, do you know them? All I can say is that I used to. I used to be able to predict every word that would come out of their mouth. I was so customary to them. Now I am impotent to tell you how they are doing. This proves that inside every person you know is a person you do not know. Seeing the person you love, love someone else is the most intensely destructive feeling I have yet to experience. It’s as if someone is ripping out my heart and slowly dissecting it piece by piece until I am left with nothing of which I can love with. There is hardly room to even love myself. I mean really, why would I love the person everyone ends up leaving behind? It is reprehensible in my contorted mind. Then again nothing in this disproportionate world seems to be.
I just need a friend. One that I can count on--forever.
My heart feels heavy. My chest feels crushed. I have no one. I am all alone. There isn’t anyone I can go to talk to. I do not know what to do with myself. I lost my best friends, my family is going through a hard time, and I just can’t be alone right now. My thoughts are scary sometimes. All I know is how it feels. That feeling when the tip of your nose starts to tingle, your breaths get a little bit faster and your vision begins to blur. That exact feeling you get right before you shed your first tear that trickles down your flushed face. Just keep taking deep breaths-- relax--hold it together. It is so hard to keep calm. It just gets very tough to keep holding back and I don't know how much more I can take.
I just want things to go back. I wish they never betrayed me. I wish I was an easier person to care about. The two people that I trusted with my life are gone. Now I don’t have anyone to protect my life. Not even sure I trust myself at this point. I’ll probably end up leaving myself too somehow. I am done with her for sure, but I just need to tell him one more thing. One last rant. One last chance to show him how he is losing someone that has never cared about anyone more, and will never care about anyone that much again. He needs to know that he broke me. I just need one more attempt to get into his head. He will always remember me, I will make sure of it.
I wrote this note a thousand times before. This time it is flawless and it is time to use it.
“For him.
It never occurred to me that such a pain can exist without physical harm. That is until now. Here I am just sitting helplessly on the edge of my bed. Staring at an empty piece on the wall of nostalgia. This piece of the wall was not always so dull. It used to be crowded, colored with many snapshots of our time spent together. My feelings had been the same way. Moving forward into today, I am overwhelmed with such strong surges of a feeling I have since deemed unfathomable. There's a stinging at the back of my throat and sadness rolling down my drained face that neglects to cease. I've been going down a path of disruptive misery and have since lost faith in my own humanity. It's almost as if you led me right into quicksand and before I realized it I was too deep to get out. I've learned that the more you struggle, the faster you sink, therefore I stopped. Don't judge me for giving in. There is a large difference between choosing not to care, and not being able to; I can assure you that I am incapable.
Reminiscing is a daily routine for me. That blank spot on the crowded wall becomes a television of memories and daydreams while my brain becomes the remote control. I rewatch all of the exhilarating adventures we had together. Do you recall that time we were at my house, in the yard, and we just laid there in the itchy grass gazing up at the baby blue sky? I do. Then you turned to me and smiled. Your smile seemed brighter than the sun. I smiled back and clumsily asked you what had caused you to grin and you shook your head assuring me it was nothing. Later that night, I asked you about it again. The only answer I got was, “because of you”. I just sat there and beamed. I rewinded this scene at least a million times. Each time I did, the end result was me becoming lost in the moment, being carefree and thoughtless. I would always laugh when I was with you. Even when I was having a terror of a day, the minute we spoke it was like none of the bad things even happened. You were my ecstasy. I think it is safe to say we were in love. If not as lovers, then as companions. We were asphyxiated in the mystical transcendence we created. We did everything together. We told each other our deepest and darkest secrets. We were foolproof. When we were on the phone, which was constantly, we would frolic in our whimsy nonsense. It repetitively ended with either you or me hanging up, immediately followed by the ringing of the other person calling back. Not under any condition was there a day that we didn’t talk. I was intoxicated, drunk, off of your endless love. My stomach was full of butterflies just like my heart. Butterflies are extraordinarily wild creatures, and I guess that is why our ribs are cages.
After months of being absorbed within our own unique fantasy, something had changed between us. Bickering became a daily routine that had started to replace our playful teasing. Our level of emotional and physical bonding began to disappear and we slowly started to disconnect. We weren’t as coherent as we were before. Who knows for what reason that may be. I just didn’t want us to vanish. However, what I wanted never really mattered, did it?
One day we got into a colossal confrontation. You have got to remember this one. It ended with your compelling words spewing venom towards yours truly. I find it so fascinating how a heart doesn’t emit sound when it cracks. If it did, that's when you would've heard it. I remember every single word you had spoken to me. Every feeling you conveyed. Every endeavor you pursued. Those remarks still haunt me today probably more than they ever did back then. This fight was so dissimilar in comparison to the others. There was no withdrawing in the end. The next day we didn’t talk. --24 hours, --1,440 minutes, --86,400 seconds. We did not talk. Every aching minute of the next few days I fought back the urge to text you or call you, telling myself that if you wanted to talk to me, you would. Eventually I put my ego aside, something you never seemed capable of doing anymore, and I called you. We started to talk and I got choked up. I was struggling to breathe due to the droplets of disappointment leaking out of my eyes and I hung up the phone. I pulled myself together and stared at the screen waiting to swipe the green bar to the right, but I wasted my time, because I was never presented with the option. That was the exact day I tried to convince myself I hated you. The most detrimental part about trying to do so was coming to the realization that I could never hate you. Rather I grew to hate myself for being ineffective in the seemingly impossible task. As much as I strived to mend our broken relationship, I knew I couldn't. Once the tower catches fire there is only a certain amount of time you have to extinguish it before it gets too bad and you can no longer save it. It will burn to the ground and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Then after it turns to ash you can rebuild the tower, but it will never be the same and you'll always remember the way it burned--even when the heat is gone. This is our burnt tower, and I tried to salvage everything I could, but unfortunately a fire takes more than one person to put out.
Nowadays, months later here I am sitting on the edge of my bed pondering over all of this. Only now I get upset less often and all I feel is simply nothing at all. Just like we never used to go a day without talking, I never go a day without trying to figure out what misconception occurred to leave our bond astray. I just can’t stop thinking-- overthinking. You know how things like this kill me.
         I was ever impaired over how I was sorry for the things I never did and you were never sorry for the things you did. But maybe things will be different these days. Maybe you’ll be sorry, I know I no longer am. I'd like to portray to you my gratitude. Because of you I can find tranquility in the monstrosity of a life I have lived. Just acknowledge the fact that I never gave up. I never stopped dwelling over you. I even proved it--. I wrote your name on the bullet, so that everyone knows you were the last thing that went through my head.”
     You either change because you've learned enough and you want to, or because you've been hurt enough that you have to. Some people smoke, others drink, and some people fall in love. Each one dies in a different way.  I have it all planned out. I want to do it… I want to. Yet, I really can’t. I don’t have the guts or the willpower to bring myself to an end. Behind my smile-- sometimes-- I really wish I did. I am indeed tired of living, but oh so scared of dying. A smile can mask anything.
Allow my life to be a lesson to the rest of you...
Keep your friends an arms length away-- so that when they move further, you know what to do with the empty space surrounding you.