Hey forest witch...
...I'm offering you up my beating heart, kalima style, here, take a bite; I don't need it anymore.
Melodramatic, perhaps, but not untrue.
They say it takes three months to get over someone. Huh. That basically means my summer is fucked.
The worst part is that I'll never know if he ever cared about me at all...I'm just left in this total silence. I told him how I felt, which garnered me permanent silent treatment. Thrown in the hole, in solitary confinement with no explanation. Harsh.
Somebody slap me, shake me like a rag doll, knock some fucking sense into me.
Take my phone away before I write him one more miserable sentence that he won't read anyway.
He probably thinks I'm an over-the-edge total whack-job. But idgaf. He doesn't read me anymore anyway, so who cares at this point.
How did I let this happen, though? What's the point of being vulnerable...of being open. Of telling someone how you feel if you're just going to be rejected. Turned away. Ignored. Discarded when no longer needed or wanted?
Isn't anyone true blue anymore?
Tf happened to romance?
Tf happened to being real?
I just don't even know anymore.
--
In other news...
My sister brought over some of my dad's things today. His baseball glove and ball, which he used to teach me how to play baseball. His baseball cap and a few other things he had when he was with my mother.
It's weird to see his things in my apartment. Makes me think about what will happen to my stuff after I'm gone. Probably whisked away to Goodwill/salvation army in one van load. Which is fine.
Last night, as I lay in bed, I thought about my dad's life. Specifically the end. How he was trapped (by his own doing) in a loveless marriage, staying only for convenience's sake, and it made me so sad. This caused our whole family such turmoil.
This would never happen to me, and I told him such when we talked about it. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings, but I rather die alone, be true to myself, and poor af, than be with someone out of convenience.
It would be a veritable prison for me, even if surrounded by provided comforts. But I guess everyone has their reasons for how best to live their lives.
Angelina -Pinegrove