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| Why do I torture myself? What is this obsession? I
don't want to think about it anymore, but I do. I don't want to
forget, but remembering hurts. Why do things like this happen? Even
in silence she calls me. She doesn't really, but I can't escape her.
She wants me to leave, but something won't let me. The spotlight
upon her exists even when I've left. In a world of blacks, grays,
and whites, one doesn't simply forget the person they met who lives
in color. Even if one notices nothing else unusual about such a
person, it would linger in their mind indefinitely. No travels,
however fun, no hobbies, however interesting, and no people, however
nice and caring, could free someone from thoughts of the colored
person you met. No one could understand your tale. No description
about someone with color could enlighten someone who has never seen
it. She is the one with color, who's memory has made itself resident
in my head, making itself known whenever nothing else is temporarily
the center of my thoughts. Just knowing she's there, online, with
nothing stopping me from talking but my word to her that I wouldn't.
She hasn't blocked me. What does that mean? Does she trust me to not
talk to her? Does she know I'm online? Am I on her buddy list still?
Why can I drift away and stop communicating with friends that were
once close to me without much trouble, but this one matters? Why
does this one matter? What has she done differently to me? Why did I
have to screw up so much? Why can't I leave people alone? Why do I
have to interfere with their lives? How long will this occupy my
thoughts? Why does she have to have a stupid shield up? Why on earth
would people hurt her? What has she done to them? I've tried to stop
from annoying her. Why doesn't it work? Will she ever talk to me
again? She said we shouldn't. She deleted reference to me on her
"buddies" page of her webpage, but left my name on the main page
where she mentions her online friends. Does she think of me ever?
What does she think when she sees things I've given her? Does she
still have them? Does she still have the pictures of us? Why can't I
get over it? Darn it, why do things have to be like this? We used to
be such good friends. She was the last person I'd want to lose. Why
can't she see how I am? How I really am. I never meant any harm to
her. Never. I'm just a fool with foolish ideas, which turned to
foolish actions, and now I'm paying the price. What kills me is that
she thinks I'm a jerk. That's not mean on her part, that's just how
things are. If I think someone's a jerk but someone else doesn't,
does that make me mean? No. But I'm not a jerk. I may perform
actions like a jerk, but I don't mean to. It's intentions.
Intentions are the only thing we can control. I can't help but think
that if I had been a better friend, if I had known more about life,
then we could still have what we once did. |
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