I've stared at his number for what seems like an eternity. I know what I want to do and this is far from it. I wanted to reconnect. I wanted to be able to talk, share laughs. Like we used to. I wanted to be his friend. Unfortunately, I knew he no longer felt the same. I tried and tried to make a connection. Every time, it seemed to be a failed effort. It was like watering an already dead plant. Sure, there's a miraculous chance of recovery, but the effort...

Talking to him had become a responsibility far greater than I could bare. It wasn't worth feeling the rejection every time he didn't respond. Every time he brushed off an attempt at conversation. It's not like I didn't ask him how he felt. He was always reassuring me that he wanted to be friends. He was always "just in a bad place right now". He never wanted to hang out, didn't respond to any texts. Hee said he was that way with everyone. I believed him, at first. I gave him space, tried to be understanding and attentive at the same time. I tried to be all the things I thought a good friend should be. But he could never see me as a friend. He could never distance himself from the past nor could he face the future. To verbalize his true thoughts would shake the foundation of both his future and mine. Nothing would ever be the same.

He always was the kind of person to prefer mediocrity over chaos. It's better to stick with the disappointment you already know than to try something new and fail. Change is the enemy of comfort, after all.

He forgets that I'm not one to hide behind fake emotions. I'm real, even when it's scary, dangerous. When I'm throwing furniture across the room and there's fire in my eyes. I'm real when I'm a top my ice castle, surrounded by barbed wire, yelling obscenities over the bitter winds. Despite the belief that I don't deal with my emotions, I'm more in touch than I want to be. Sometimes, it feels like I have a third eye that can see everything the other two don't. I used to be afraid of what remained under the surface. Now, I'm more afraid of everything else. The darkest realm of the consciousness brings a comfort and understanding that I've never known. I'm ready to face the truth,y even when it isn't mine.

I take a deep breath as I erased his contact information. My resources are limited and I have to save them for thriving enterprises. I'm only sorry I couldn't let go any sooner. I guess it's better late than never.

Sorry Sorry Reviewed by Ali Larsen on March 22, 2019 Rating: 5

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