You’re Dead to Me?

Why do you keep me stuck in between holding on and letting go?

When I asked you what you wanted,

You said you wanted space.

You said you wanted to be left alone.

You said you needed time to get your shit together.

I said “okay, I can give you space.” But the look on your face said you wanted more than space.

So I continued, “Do you want to be left alone for now or forever?”

“For now,” you said, unconvincingly.

My heart broke slightly more with each passing second. 

“Do I even matter to you?”

“You matter…to a certain extent. But nothing  really matters”

“Uh, okay John Green. Sure oblivion is inevitable and we’re all going to die, but do you care about what I want? Do you care about me?”

“…..uh….not really…sometimes…”

“How are we friends if you don’t care about me?”

“I don’t care about what’s important to you.”

Under my breathe, “what’s the fucking difference?” Then louder, “If you didn’t want a friend, why try to be my friend in the beginning?”

“…because I’m an asshole.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. So what happens if I don’t leave you alone”

“I’ll just ignore you”

“Okay…”

End of conversation. 

After that you started ignoring my texts and calls.

Was it the apathy and depression talking? Your self-loathing post teen angst.

Or did I never mean anything to you.

I never got to ask why you said ‘love you’ the other day when we parted ways.

I never got to ask if I was special to you.

I never got to ask why not just tell me to leave you alone forever if you didn’t care about me anyway.

There’s exactly a month until I leave. Until you’ll never have to see me again or hear my voice. 30 days. And hopefully I’ll never have to feel this way again.

Empty and depressed and anxious one second and feeling like I’m going to vomit the next.

Soon, I’ll be dead to you. No longer holding on or letting go. Just gone forever.

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