because even when you made the excuse (and i’m almost tempted to call it half assed) about calling me later after you hung out with your friends, you were calling me back. not to wish me a good trip but calling because i had called you.
and you could have left a message, called the next day, email, myspace or a myriad of things, but you didn’t.
and you hung out til past twelve as you yourself stated but it’s always too late when it comes time to be with me.
did you even remember that i was leaving?
or care?
did you listen to me last night at all or was it just nice to have someone you could vent to?
because i don’t remember you asking me anything except “what’s wrong?” and “how was your trip?”
.
and you never did say I’m sorry. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that from you.
at least not sincerely.
it’s always some sheepish whisper of a statement as if you were embarassed to say something so silly.
.
and i realized that even if james and vant know about me, i’ve never ever met any of your friends.
is it that the ones here aren’t important to you?
or that i’m the one who’s insignificant?
.
so what’s of this? this half hearted romance turned friendship turned i’m doing all the upkeep.
.
because i’m sick of this catch 22.
the i don’t want to be friends because every moment spent with you makes me feel like i don’t deserve to be loved
mixed with
the but i love you and you want to be friends, so let me sacrifice my wants and needs and sanity to reach out and take care of yours.
.
and you’re never there when i’m crying.
you’ve ruined every holiday i’m on, where i try to run away from my feelings for you.
and yet you say nothing when i tell you this
as if you don’t care.
maybe you don’t care.
.
yet.
everytime i want to break away
i finally heed the advice of my friends and take of myself first,
i see you for “one last time”
and i melt
i turn into puddy
into a nervous, doubtful pussycat
and i watch your face and you’re talking
all i want to do is reach across and touch you and kiss you and make you mine again.
.
and the next day, i hate you for it.
.
i hate you
for not loving me.
.
