This is my final LJ post.
...and he found himself wondering, as he detachedly stirred the ice with his straw, if the waitress had noticed the redness of his eyes, or the shiny streaks on his face.
nomatter how small or fleeting,
is like the martial arts.
Letting someone get close
gets you hurt.
It's amazing how, one week, someone can make you feel important...and the next, like yesterday's garbage.
It's becoming even harder to count on people and I refuse to give chase, anymore.
I don't need this shit.
Could I ever run my fingers through your hair?—??
Could I be present in your mind when I'm not there?
Could I be the sun
To burn away the rain that's come?
I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose—Sarah McLachlan
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose
...to any of you who value my friendship in any way:Do it.
If you say you're going to do something.
If I can't count on you, you're not my friend.
I'm sick of being let down, and I refuse to tolerate it any longer.
For years, I've been a human bandage.
And people don't have any use for a bandage, after it's healed their wounds, do they?
They simply throw it away, once it's served its purpose, and never think about it again.
I've come to the end of my roll.