What You Can NEVER Say.....

You know, I'd love to meet you for coffee sometime and catch up again, but why do you always have to call in the middle of the night? I mean seriously, what we might have had was pretty cool, but it had no future. Do you really feel that bad about moving away that you have to call me every single time you're drunk and horny? You told me that we were at two completely different points in life, and you were right, so go live your life while I go and live mine. It wasn't meant to be, 'sweetie'. If you want to talk, call me during the day. If you just want to fuck, there is no way in hell I'm driving three hours to see you.

So yeah...how do you like them apples?
 
I am not one to feel a lot of emotions. You know this to be true. But I love you, and I hate you too. You were my first archetype of what a friend should be, and then you go and die on me. I'm selfish, yes, but that is the right of the living. My heart hurts every time I use it, now I resort to repressing your memory and living in the future. I know it must hurt you too, though; to see that I can't even love anyone but feel so much for everyone. It's actually quite perplexing. Perhaps I don't hate you, perhaps I hate the fact that I loved you so much.
 
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Dear I ,
I wish u knew just how much you mean to me and just how much you have changed my life. I know that I am an emotional wreck and perhaps it's not easy to be around me and for that I do apologize . I wish I could get over this deperession thing which has been haunting me for years and years now and be a more enjoyble person . Yes,I want to do this for you. I want you to like me just the way I like you ( I know it sounds childish ,but this is just the way I am)
I don't know what your wife feels about me ,but she should know that between us there could be nothing but platonic love.
There is something about you that I feel very attracted to ( not in a sexual way ) . I think it is the fact that you very sure of whom you are. You don't apologize for your way of being and that is just amazing to me ,a person which is constantly second guesing herself .I love your life -style and the fact that you are out-going and love night-clubs. I also adore the polite manner in which you speak and the fact that you were amongst the few which took me seriously in a time when my self-esteem hit rock-bottom. For that I am forever grateful.
 
I secretly think you're a bitch and I feel bad about it. You're just a screwed up individual trying to overcompensate by being rude and sarcastic because you think that's what's going to win you respect. Truth is, nobody likes you; they just tolerate you because you happen to be the person that introduced and brought us all together. When you walk into the room, everyone clams up and is on their guard. Whenever you leave, everyone just rolls their eyes and acknowledges that unspoken irritation we all share toward your person. It annoys me that I act on my guilt by being nice to you; it's insincere and for that, I apologize. My pity for your painfully obvious lack of self-esteem wins out my initial dislike. And that makes feel really dirty somehow.
 
I wish I quite knew what to say to you, even in not directly telling you.

I am disappointed that you chose the surface instead of the real me. And to be honest, I think you knew you were insulting me by doing this. And it doesn't hurt because it wasn't really a friendship to begin with, it hurts because it seems to be the story of my life. What is it that you mother fuckers are afraid of?? Love??? My challenge to you to live what's in your soul instead of the bullshit around you??? The real me? wtf....
 
You had no right. I was a child but so were you. You knew I wanted to please everyone around me, and you took advantage of that. I'm a hypocrite, I do believe that everyone makes a choice for themselves but you took advantage of me. Maybe you remember, maybe you don't, but I do. I try to forget what we did in a bed when we were children, but it's not possible. Maybe it's part of that 'sexual exploration' all those scientist talk about, maybe it's normal, but looking back I didn't want to do it. I hate you and I hate the fact that I let it happen.
 
Dear Person,
You are the kindest person I have ever known to drive me to despair. I think you won't do it again, but I cannot actually know. I think perhaps it will happen again, but I'm still willing.

Dear 'Nother Person,
I don't know how I was able to understand you so well, and yet not at all. Why was it so hard? I don't understand what is so hard about it.
 
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