So, This may or may not be about someone, but it probably is. If this IS about a specific person, nobody will ever be able to figure it out because it’s not about the person who you think it is. And, If you think this is about you, specifically, well, that means, we might have a problem, right? But, fear not friend, it’s most likely not about you. So, what I’ve decided with this, is to put up and out this.. this.. chaotic insight into my mind, while it’s certainly not the most personal thing I’ve ever posted on the internet (or read to a crowd full of strangers), it is certainly something I want to get out of my head and put somewhere. Still with me? Alright!
A Possible Goodbye.
Maybe I should, just get over it. I mean, that’s the healthy step, right? Whatever it is, whatever it was. Whatever it would’ve been or whatever it could’be been.
Whatever it wasn’t.
Whatever it was.
Maybe I should just get over it.
By this time, by this place in time, by this year, these.. so many years later (and I mean a really long time!), does it really seem to matter anymore? To you? I don’t really think so. But to me? It doesn’t, does it? No way! Not anymore.
Except of course, when it does. Which is every time I think about it. Which isn’t often, so you know, but It does happen from time to time. It really isn’t that big of a deal, right? I mean, in the ensuing years, I’ve made better friends, much better friends, I’ve LOST better friends, I’ve reconnected with friends, unconnected, and so on and on.
But what is it about this thing, this thing that sticks to me, to my life? Why? Why does it still bother me. Still. So much.
But, does it really?
Do I just say it does, because I want… recognition? (Can that be right?) Recognition for what? Validation? Because I need evidence? Evidence to prove that a friendship with me has, a shelf life? Because I do feel that way from time to time. Like people get to a point where they can’t stand to be my friend, roughly around two years. People cannot be my friend for more than two years? And pushing a friendship beyond that, creates… something..uncomfortable Or maybe it’s not two.. maybe it’s just one.
That’s a terrible way to think. And yet, it IS the way I think. And yet, it is almost guaranteed that the above facts have been absolutely true 0% of the time. But still, that’s how I feel sometimes. And, this point, this specific point, I’ve lost where it was going (I do that, you know, of all things, THAT is something I’ll always be remembered for).
THIS is about you and I, whatever that was, and whatever happened to it. Whatever happened to us, and why it is that I still get sad when I see your picture or hear people talk about you. Why, still. I mean still? Really? It’s not like we even meant that much to each other, it’s not like we even.. Well, lets look at this: at the very base, I can’t even tell if we were even that good of friends! I mean, I can’t imagine we would’ve ever been more than that and even in my most selective or misguided recollective memory. I never saw that as a thing, but then again, I never really know about this kind of stuff and I am generally known to misjudge something like that, either way (and let me tell you, these types of situations NEVER lead to anything awkward, ever!). But really, at this point, I seem to have gotten horribly off topic and you shouldn’t be too concerned with the fact that I spent such a great deal of time on this particular segment, more likely this is just colourful insight into my fractured mind of overthought indecising.
Or maybe it tells a lot about what I really wanted to (want to?) say, but It really doesn’t seem that way.
Or something, you get the idea.
Anyway, this is where I need to end this. This is where I make my final choice to stop. To put this behind me. This is where I move on. This is where I make I my end with this. This is where I make my overly long, farewell.
But, I might change my mind. I’ve known to do that, occasionally.
(But let’s be honest, If you really really really think this is about you, you’re absolutely crazy, because it’s not about you, ok?)