Sunday, April 03, 2005

Dear You,

Ohh god it just hit me.. you're really gone this time.

I doubt you'll read this, but like the silly Sysiphus (sp) I am, I feel the need to ask you a few futile questions:
What made you go from wanting to work with me on a project and talking to me every day and hanging out with me so often to making me the mascot for everything you think is fucked up in the world? What in your brain or your feelings snapped? What could I have possibly said or done to make you hate me so damn much? Why now after..well, you know, everything.

I guess you're fed up with me, finally. Maybe I should be relieved. That now I don't have the burden of wishing the war would end so you don't have to go. That now I have reason to push your image out of my mind while I'm fucking someone else. That now I don't have to wait or hope any longer. But I am not relieved.

Because you are gone. The you that I knew. I really don't know who that was, the other night. That hard and hostile man who was wearing your fedora. I ran away from him.

The higher I push this rock, the harder it will fall. I am nearly as tired as this over-done Camus metaphor.
So I guess all I can say is goodbye.

-A


posted at 7:46 PM |