Status: je t'aime, et la fin.
Then What Happened?
un/un.
“Who is that?”
I know exactly who you are, but I’m afraid to say it. We met over fancy cars and American dolls. We bonded over fluffy-haired heroes and men in ripped jeans. We spent late nights giggling over the kinky side of life and stupid videos of those same stupid heroes in their same ripped jeans. I promised you I would stay your best friend, your sister, forever, and you promised the exact same.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
Then what happened?
I ran off with my Suicide Sister to eat diamonds and sleep in the dirt. I broke your heart and left you praying for a ghost that wasn’t really there. And as I lay dying, like I was Jesus on his fucking funeral bed, I cried for the mess I had made by telling you goodbye. That picture still haunts me today of you with your eyes red, your cheeks stained, and your phone held up to the camera saying I love you.
I couldn’t do that to a friend or myself. So I got up.
You make me happy when skies are gray.
Remember how wonderful it was when we came back together? I stopped chewing diamonds and changed my life for you. We stayed up late again, we texted during class again, we sent each other those kinky stories again, we obsessed over the same men again, we promised to never leave each other again . . .
Then what happened?
I honestly can’t say. You continued to spill your life on canvas and bump shoulders with sweaty fans who were twice as big as you while I cocked my head in chemistry class and doodled our inside jokes on the margins of my notes.
We still talked. It wasn’t every day like it used to, but we talked. Sure our conversations grew shorter and the text messages eventually stopped, but I know you’re still there. You’d be there if I need someone to run to or read over a latest story for me before I post it somewhere or keep me entertained when I’m bored.
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.
Still, I’m scared.
Our relationship has grown to the point where I’m back in my reserved shell and keeping things to myself. I’m holding back from talking to you on AIM because I’m worried that you might be busy. I deleted all your pictures from my computer because I didn’t want to seem creepy. I got the strange feeling one day as I read through our old text messages that you were better off without me. And I decided to leave it that way, because maybe it was true.
So who’s that girl standing with her life on her shoulders and somewhere to go? The girl who I loved to say was going to take me to prom and be my shoulder to cry on and who promised to be my sister through and through, all the way until the end?
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly as I feel tears come to my eyes. A song begins to play through my head as I watch you leave and probably never turn back.
Please don’t take my sunshine away.
I know exactly who you are, but I’m afraid to say it. We met over fancy cars and American dolls. We bonded over fluffy-haired heroes and men in ripped jeans. We spent late nights giggling over the kinky side of life and stupid videos of those same stupid heroes in their same ripped jeans. I promised you I would stay your best friend, your sister, forever, and you promised the exact same.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
Then what happened?
I ran off with my Suicide Sister to eat diamonds and sleep in the dirt. I broke your heart and left you praying for a ghost that wasn’t really there. And as I lay dying, like I was Jesus on his fucking funeral bed, I cried for the mess I had made by telling you goodbye. That picture still haunts me today of you with your eyes red, your cheeks stained, and your phone held up to the camera saying I love you.
I couldn’t do that to a friend or myself. So I got up.
You make me happy when skies are gray.
Remember how wonderful it was when we came back together? I stopped chewing diamonds and changed my life for you. We stayed up late again, we texted during class again, we sent each other those kinky stories again, we obsessed over the same men again, we promised to never leave each other again . . .
Then what happened?
I honestly can’t say. You continued to spill your life on canvas and bump shoulders with sweaty fans who were twice as big as you while I cocked my head in chemistry class and doodled our inside jokes on the margins of my notes.
We still talked. It wasn’t every day like it used to, but we talked. Sure our conversations grew shorter and the text messages eventually stopped, but I know you’re still there. You’d be there if I need someone to run to or read over a latest story for me before I post it somewhere or keep me entertained when I’m bored.
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.
Still, I’m scared.
Our relationship has grown to the point where I’m back in my reserved shell and keeping things to myself. I’m holding back from talking to you on AIM because I’m worried that you might be busy. I deleted all your pictures from my computer because I didn’t want to seem creepy. I got the strange feeling one day as I read through our old text messages that you were better off without me. And I decided to leave it that way, because maybe it was true.
So who’s that girl standing with her life on her shoulders and somewhere to go? The girl who I loved to say was going to take me to prom and be my shoulder to cry on and who promised to be my sister through and through, all the way until the end?
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly as I feel tears come to my eyes. A song begins to play through my head as I watch you leave and probably never turn back.
Please don’t take my sunshine away.