let's be frank here

If I stop for too long, my mind wanders back to the very last person to have made me cry. Though conversation eventually occurred and hostilities were tamed, a whole lot of nothingness followed. Maybe "the talk" wasn't even about making up or making better. Maybe it was merely to soften the blow of a fated reality that neither of us anticipated. Maybe I'm wrong and this is but temporary wait for something spectacular. I don't know. I'm not sure of anything. It's an odd limbo to be in.

I've been keeping myself busy for the past week, finding solace in friends, music, movies, literature, school even. I need to stay busy. Until you come back, or until I'm okay with the possibility you never coming back.

I'm not okay yet, not quite. I will be one day, and the part of us being "so far removed from each other's lives that we won't even remember" will be. But that day hasn't come yet and as much as I shouldn't say it, as masochistic as it seems, I'm still at your mercy. Do as you please while you still can.

Kill me.