Let’s not be friends.
At first I thought my need to avoid discomfort was driving me to rip you from my life.
(Persistent feelings of rejection visit me when I think of you)
But really watching you now with ur Biff-stick dramatically talking about ur life, is draining.
You don’t like being alone and I think that’s why I’m here, or rather why u asked me to come fill up this empty house.
I don’t feel special with you. Lingering scents of replaceability wafts thru and joins my thoughts.
Acting as friends seems like a fall in tier.
You’re doing a good job of keeping it just friends: I don’t feel
like you treat me better or worse than how you treat other people around us.
But that’s the problem for me.
Not that you should treat me better because we
were close before but being at friendship level makes me feel like
something is missing like losing a limb.
I remember how life was and know
I worked at a higher level and now
I look at the nub and know things
were better before.
But you’re not a limb for me to reminisce about. Life wasn’t that good when we were together and now that I understand you better, I know we shouldn’t be together.
But this sense of loss walks beside me as you show me around your new house.