Ridiculous Thoughts

"It is foolish to regret something that is already done." - Melissa P.

A week has gone and I'm still alive. Job, and trip to amusement park in which my blood is still whooshing around. Observing all the couples.

But new thought. Maybe me and her, we're not that different. I always said she was my antithesis, everything I am not. But here she is. She wanted once, too. She stood there whilst the shoes were on my feet. She watched as I lead. Did she sit like me and contemplate? Did she despise me? Did she live in regret that maybe there were things she had wanted to say, so foreign to her that not even she was aware of them; lurking in her subconcious. Did she want to impress the mother, four feet and accomplished? Did she just want things to change? Did she want more? Does she worry about trust?

He said where we differ is she doesn't worry. She lives in the now; he's so hedonistic. I'm too jaded for that; I walk the Earth worrying the bottom will fall out; it usually did. If he had known.

And what for now? A thirst for a drink already knocked over, a hunger for a meal spoiled. Another life calls me and we might as well be strangers.

I don't cry. You'd like to see that perhaps. But I'm different, I soldier on, doing whatever I can, working harder. You always said I was a negative person. I thrive off disappointment, I'm so used to it. I've prided myself on stoicism so long I know nothing else. You've always said I was stronger than alot of people, in my odd way.

I wish I had gone to Geneva. You get to move on with your life and here I am. It kills me to know you're happy now where you were never happy with me.

I do want to cry sometimes.

But it IS foolish to regret something already done. And someone who doens't care if it is or what. And you were to care, how should I know? I wouldn't want to, what would it change? She;d still be there. And good for her, I've nothing against her.

In the drop of the rollercoaster, just before it goes down before the loops, I closed my eyes. I wanted to feel it. I want to feel this, too, as odd as this sounds. I want to be sad. I want to be angry. I want to grab onto it as long as I can. Never say die. I'm not ready for this sort of thing.

Please don't say hello to me, please don't be kind. I'd rather you scorned me, I'd rather you yelled, I'd rather you were angry. Kindness is so cruel; I don't want to be friends; friends meet and greet your significant others; friends drift apart after the fact, friends get left behind. Exes, we are forever. Dignify me enough to let me be safe without having to see you with her, with letting it go. Please don't pity me, please don't feel sorry for me. Please don't bother about it. I don't want that part of you, I don't want to be forgotten in that dismissive way. Don't congradualate me on my new job, don't praise my taste in fall '08 suiting colors, don't say everything will be ok because the fact of the matter is it isn't; and I see that. Don't tell me I'll be fine, don't tell me I'll get over it, I don't want that kind of reassurance, I don't want to be insignificant enough to be a friend. I don't want to be another friend. We cannot be friends; we cannot.

And I've no idea.

I really cannot do this. I really can't.