In keeping up with the trend of this gloomy day, and sad blog posts, here’s another for ya.
I recall just turning ten, before the summer time and soon a new school year would begin. Two different people, with two different personalities would collide, and an outcome inevitable for greatness. It was ‘98, when I first met you. Ms.Young’s class. You sat in the second row from the door, at the end of that row. You never raised your hand to answer her questions, nor did you speak much unless spoken to. I often laid my head on the side boards by the door. My row consisted of Mark Purdy, and he was my only friend in the beginning of the school year. He wore these green, plaid pants all the time, with a green knitted sweater. Looking at him, reminded me of Christmas all the time!
Recess, I’d try to cross paths with you, but you had built roots and friends with people I have yet to figure out. I was the one looking in from the outside, even though I was the loud and obnoxious one between us. I wasn’t shy to approach you. Perhaps a game of tag was how we finally became friends. But those memories are sometimes a blur in my mind. We were inseparable. We were together before, and after school. We walked to, and from school together. We shared lunches, clothes, pencil crayons, markers, everything we obsessed about as children.
As time passed, I noticed an undeniable consistency. I was always the one in a rut, problematic at home, outside of home, and in life in general. You always saved me, even if it meant saying sorry for my faults. But we’d soon drift because High School came, and grade nine would pass. It was only the inevitable that we would split-up come grade ten. You found new friends. Different types of friends. Friends I couldn’t belong with.
It would take losing something special to you for us to get back together. I guess we were both just used to me losing all the time and if it ever was you, it would be a lot harder. That time was rough. It was hard. It still is and I get it. But time is passing, things will never be the same. To subconsciously dwell, and find yourself no where, with no passion, just riding on temporary waves, and fake romances, would never get you out. It would never change your life. You wouldn’t see better things, you wouldn’t experience greater things. To be still, and to have your feet planted where it’s hip deep, would never give you the life you can have. Is it so bad to want more?
We’ve drifted yet again, because our lives are just too different and we’ve just moved on. Lets be honest. Let’s be truthful, we don’t love each other the way we used to. We don’t yearn for the same type of relationship we used to have. Our differences is no longer, what brings us together. I say things, you listen. It gets boring, when I’m the only one ever trying to make sense of things. The effort is there, from my part. But you’re stuck in some depression, I can’t pull you out of. You give no effort, you give no importance, you show no tries, then what’s the point?
Goodbye, we’re broken up.