Busy.
“Are you busy?
By that, I mean–
I can’t think of a good enough excuse to talk to you, which is sad, because there was a time I didn’t need an “excuse” to talk to you; either way, I have poor impulse control and I am desperately clinging on to the past.
By that I mean, I miss what we used to have. Even if it was all a lie; if it meant nothing to you. I miss when I didn’t have to second guess everything I said to you. I miss when talking to you didn’t make me feel even more alone.
By that I mean, on the occasions that I lose all semblance of self control and I seek you out, it feels as though I am talking to a stranger. I choke on the forced pleasantries that spilled into the empty void that separates us.
By empty void, I mean our friendship. I try my best to ignore the hole in my chest as I desperately cling to a romanticized version of what used to be, this way, I have something pretty to put on my night stand; something to look at during the nights that become too lonely to bare.
By that, I mean every night, when I close my eyes, I like to pretend that you’re still the boy I used to talk to, all those years ago. I like to pretend that this you is actually an impersonator, and that boy is still out there and, in some universe–in some other reality–he still loves me.
By that, I mean–
Are you busy? I just wanted to catch up. Hope all is well.”
—DS,
I don't know how to say hi.
(cr by: DS from Phosphenous)
By that, I mean–
I can’t think of a good enough excuse to talk to you, which is sad, because there was a time I didn’t need an “excuse” to talk to you; either way, I have poor impulse control and I am desperately clinging on to the past.
By that I mean, I miss what we used to have. Even if it was all a lie; if it meant nothing to you. I miss when I didn’t have to second guess everything I said to you. I miss when talking to you didn’t make me feel even more alone.
By that I mean, on the occasions that I lose all semblance of self control and I seek you out, it feels as though I am talking to a stranger. I choke on the forced pleasantries that spilled into the empty void that separates us.
By empty void, I mean our friendship. I try my best to ignore the hole in my chest as I desperately cling to a romanticized version of what used to be, this way, I have something pretty to put on my night stand; something to look at during the nights that become too lonely to bare.
By that, I mean every night, when I close my eyes, I like to pretend that you’re still the boy I used to talk to, all those years ago. I like to pretend that this you is actually an impersonator, and that boy is still out there and, in some universe–in some other reality–he still loves me.
By that, I mean–
Are you busy? I just wanted to catch up. Hope all is well.”
—DS,
I don't know how to say hi.
(cr by: DS from Phosphenous)
Too damn sweet:(
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