Status: Who knows? Maybe it'll never be finished.
My Best Friend.
My Path
You know, I’ve never liked following paths.
I always liked running off into the forest away from the bumpy, boulder-less pathways.
I like exploring.
Seeing what else is out there.
Seeing that there’s more than this perfect, smooth pathway.
So saying that, I don’t think I’ve chosen a path, like you said I did.
I’ve chosen a side of the forest surrounding the path to explore.
The left side of the forest.
That’s what I’m doing right now.
Wandering through the forest.
But this part of the forest is dark.
And it’s kind of lonely.
Full of crab apple trees.
And you’re right.
I don’t belong here.
But I don’t know where I do belong.
Because I just don’t feel as though I belong anywhere anymore.
Sure, I could always go back.
Go check out the right side of the path.
But is it truly the right side?
Oh, how I love metaphors.
re-greet
/ri’gret/
Noun.
A feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened of been done.
I think regret is stupid.
It’s kind of pointless if you think about it.
Dwelling on something you can never change.
No matter how many times you wish on a star, or how many birthday cakes you have.
Wishing isn’t going to help.
You can’t change the past.
So what’s the point in worrying about it?
I don’t regret being your best friend and you being mine.
For having you as a part of my life.
For being sisters.
I still don’t.
Whether we’ll ever be best friends again, or we’ll go on miserable like this for the rest of our lives, I don’t know.
But you need to know.
I don’t regret anything.
So stop apologizing.
I don’t care for titles.
I never have.
You can call me your best friend.
Call me your ex-best friend.
Hell, you can call me whatever you want.
I don’t care, really.
Titles are like labels.
Labels are for cans.
Titles are for stories.
People are stupid.
No, people are idiots.
They will always be idiots.
Whether it’s looks, personality, gender, race, sexuality, music preference, clothing style, or favourite food.
People will always hate.
People will always be mean.
People will always be stupid.
People will also always hate themselves.
Everybody does at least once in their life.
I wish people wouldn’t.
I wish they would be able to look in mirrors and smile.
I wish people wouldn’t to so cruel to themselves.
People are beautiful.
You are beautiful.
Blood and scars and suicide attempts aren’t worth it.
You. Are. Beautiful.
I kind of like this metaphor I was saying before.
This pathway of mine.
You and everybody else come in on either sides of it.
In the forest surrounding my pathway.
The forest where I’m currently exploring.
I don’t plan on staying in this forest.
At least not this side of the forest.
It’s getting darker and darker.
But the other side is unknown still.
You say it’s all smooth sailing.
But you can’t know that for sure.
So much can happen.
I’m scared.
When I vision this pathway in my head, I don’t see two pathways.
One you.
One them.
I see one single pathway.
A long, winding pathway.
It’s like a pathway of life.
And this pathway is mine.
Not yours.
Not theirs.
Mine.
It goes off in the distance.
Right to the end.
And where I am right now in the path is where I am in life.
Lost.
This pathway has some people on it right now.
These are some of the people I sit with at lunch.
Not the people from the left side of the forest.
These are people who like me for me.
These are some of the better people wandering the forest.
People like me.
Trying to figure out where things went wrong.
Waiting out the storm for the sunshine that comes after.
So I guess I’ve sort of left the left side of the forest.
Not fully.
But it’s a start.
And it gets me closer to the other side.
To your side.
I’ve learned that my pathway is kind of like a teeter-totter.
If I go to the left of the forest, the right side is unhappy.
If I go to the right of the forest, the left side is unhappy.
But when I’m standing on my path, it’s totally even.
So I guess it would be easier to stay on my path.
Go straight down the center of the path.
Forget about the forest and the people surrounding the edges.
But that seems too safe.
Too bland.
Too perfect.
And I would totally destroy something perfect in order to make is beautiful.
Quoting My Chemical Romance.
It’s me.
What did you expect?
I should stay on my path.
It would probably be best.
Easier.
Safer.
Perfect.
But I never liked sticking to paths.
There’s a whole forest out there to explore.
I always liked running off into the forest away from the bumpy, boulder-less pathways.
I like exploring.
Seeing what else is out there.
Seeing that there’s more than this perfect, smooth pathway.
So saying that, I don’t think I’ve chosen a path, like you said I did.
I’ve chosen a side of the forest surrounding the path to explore.
The left side of the forest.
That’s what I’m doing right now.
Wandering through the forest.
But this part of the forest is dark.
And it’s kind of lonely.
Full of crab apple trees.
And you’re right.
I don’t belong here.
But I don’t know where I do belong.
Because I just don’t feel as though I belong anywhere anymore.
Sure, I could always go back.
Go check out the right side of the path.
But is it truly the right side?
Oh, how I love metaphors.
re-greet
/ri’gret/
Noun.
A feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened of been done.
I think regret is stupid.
It’s kind of pointless if you think about it.
Dwelling on something you can never change.
No matter how many times you wish on a star, or how many birthday cakes you have.
Wishing isn’t going to help.
You can’t change the past.
So what’s the point in worrying about it?
I don’t regret being your best friend and you being mine.
For having you as a part of my life.
For being sisters.
I still don’t.
Whether we’ll ever be best friends again, or we’ll go on miserable like this for the rest of our lives, I don’t know.
But you need to know.
I don’t regret anything.
So stop apologizing.
I don’t care for titles.
I never have.
You can call me your best friend.
Call me your ex-best friend.
Hell, you can call me whatever you want.
I don’t care, really.
Titles are like labels.
Labels are for cans.
Titles are for stories.
People are stupid.
No, people are idiots.
They will always be idiots.
Whether it’s looks, personality, gender, race, sexuality, music preference, clothing style, or favourite food.
People will always hate.
People will always be mean.
People will always be stupid.
People will also always hate themselves.
Everybody does at least once in their life.
I wish people wouldn’t.
I wish they would be able to look in mirrors and smile.
I wish people wouldn’t to so cruel to themselves.
People are beautiful.
You are beautiful.
Blood and scars and suicide attempts aren’t worth it.
You. Are. Beautiful.
I kind of like this metaphor I was saying before.
This pathway of mine.
You and everybody else come in on either sides of it.
In the forest surrounding my pathway.
The forest where I’m currently exploring.
I don’t plan on staying in this forest.
At least not this side of the forest.
It’s getting darker and darker.
But the other side is unknown still.
You say it’s all smooth sailing.
But you can’t know that for sure.
So much can happen.
I’m scared.
When I vision this pathway in my head, I don’t see two pathways.
One you.
One them.
I see one single pathway.
A long, winding pathway.
It’s like a pathway of life.
And this pathway is mine.
Not yours.
Not theirs.
Mine.
It goes off in the distance.
Right to the end.
And where I am right now in the path is where I am in life.
Lost.
This pathway has some people on it right now.
These are some of the people I sit with at lunch.
Not the people from the left side of the forest.
These are people who like me for me.
These are some of the better people wandering the forest.
People like me.
Trying to figure out where things went wrong.
Waiting out the storm for the sunshine that comes after.
So I guess I’ve sort of left the left side of the forest.
Not fully.
But it’s a start.
And it gets me closer to the other side.
To your side.
I’ve learned that my pathway is kind of like a teeter-totter.
If I go to the left of the forest, the right side is unhappy.
If I go to the right of the forest, the left side is unhappy.
But when I’m standing on my path, it’s totally even.
So I guess it would be easier to stay on my path.
Go straight down the center of the path.
Forget about the forest and the people surrounding the edges.
But that seems too safe.
Too bland.
Too perfect.
And I would totally destroy something perfect in order to make is beautiful.
Quoting My Chemical Romance.
It’s me.
What did you expect?
I should stay on my path.
It would probably be best.
Easier.
Safer.
Perfect.
But I never liked sticking to paths.
There’s a whole forest out there to explore.
♠ ♠ ♠
So I guess it wasn't finished.Maybe it never will be.
Again, it makes no sense.
But it does, in a way.
I guess this is kind of like a linked story. Two seperate stories, based on the same thing, bouncing back and forth. Whether it's finished or not, I don't know.
But this is her side of all of this. Her Story