it's not about you.

i'll start this week on a good note. at least i'll try to. will pack away all thoughts about you, but i'll leave Frank the cat with me because he gives good hugs at night. will not harp on the fact that you still haven't truly understood me; i realise it shouldn't matter because you're not a part of my life anymore. so you can print out those words and show them to your hippy friends. you can laugh about it over dinner and cigarette smoke. you can highlight those ultra-funny and pathetic moments, just for kicks. you can deny you ever felt the same way [because your friends don't have to know] and i'll be contented just having you

gone.

i cannot work like this, with you next to me. and that old voice of yours keeps going on in my head about our past and i can't listen to it anymore. you really could try shutting up for once. but maybe i don't want you to ever stop because once you do, i'd have nothing left of you.

after four years of shallow love, the only meaningful souvenir i have now is finding a friend in your significant other. she's like a really painful scar; it still hurts when i look, but at the same time she reminds me of the mistakes i did. so i guess the pain helped to define the sort of life i lived with you. and i suppose it's the best i deserve.

thanks for the thoughtful gift then.

it's about time i move on right. i don't wish to impose my opinion of everything on her. it wouldn't be fair to the both of you. knowing how strongly i believe in some things...she might just actually turn out like me, the way you said she would. so i'm doing you a favour by keeping away. i don't need your thanks. just leave my heart at my door.

'welcome to the real world,'
he said to me
condescendingly.