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cold war

are we actually fighting?

I don't know, maybe I should apologize, maybe I did behave badly the past week. Hell, like there's any reason for that, eh? PMS? Fluctuating spelunking spells? Well, I don't goddamned know. and hmm, that's new.

Are you expecting to hear me say I'm sorry? For goddamned what? For staying a few seats away for less than three hours? I don't fuckin get that.

No? then for what? for leaving my seat to buy cigarettes even as you had just seated yourself down to eat your lunch? Well, sorry if I tripped over some unwritten rule of etiquette around there.

That's not it? then what? then you want me to apologize for talking in anger behind your back about the things you do?

Ah that. That's something you wouldn't get, not even if I explain. Of course you wouldn't get it.

Why?

Because it's fucking complicated to understand, why and how the hell I could still be in love with you after EVERYTHING.

After every. Goddamned. Thing.

Listen, if you want an apology, fine, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that's bothering you, I'm sorry for putting thoughts in your head, hell I'm sorry I could be messing up your life now. I am so sorry, damnit.

Everything was this short of a lie.

And I guess, the next question is why, right? Why I chose to live that lie. Why I chose to do, to endure everything that I did. Yeah, to some extent, I guess I could've led you on - fuck, you were so sold into this… this fucking façade that things were… were nothing more than what they were.

You thought - and you were so goddamned sure, too, eh - everything was just that, when in reality they weren't.

So you want me to say sorry for all the lies I've told you. fine. Here's another apology.

Apology after apology after fuckin apology, okay, I now get it, everything, everything ends this way. Everything.

You want me to apologize for falling in love with you, too. Fine then, here's another one. I'm sorry I could mess up now. You have to know though, I tried getting myself out of this mess, but yeah, foolish me, I let it get out of hand.

But you know something? These lies, the things you do - they're all fucking hurting me. but guess something else.

I'm not asking for any apology from you. nothing. Nothing from you, cause I've had it with asking for things you could never have anyway… I've had it, I've learned.

Well, surprise, surprise, I do learn after all. slowly, and even more slowly, but still, I manage.

You say you never understand the things we do, the way we think, and I say I do not blame you.

I do not blame you, and hell, I think I know now - the reasons why you never see me hurting.

It's because you could never get the way we think, the way I think, the way our minds, our feelings work - and damn you. pity you, god have mercy on you for not knowing better.

And you say you'd been into relationships. And that makes you think you know better?

You sad sad person.

But then, you're you, and nothing can change that.

Not even the fact that as stupid as this may sound, all that while, I was in fact, in love with you, and you were only too careless to think it had all been a joke.

My love was a joke. How pathetic could anything, anything as in anything… get?

Maybe I should just get this over and done with, and tell you, spit the facts right on your face, loud enough to pierce through your self-imposed deafness, and sharp enough to cut into your skin and make you feel.

Something. Anything.

Positive or negative, I dare not choose which. I'm guessing I wouldn't like any, after all.

I just want to tell you, after everything - I still don't want to change anything. I figured I don't want a relationship with you, in fact I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore.

I just don't. because the truth of the matter is, no matter what I do, I shall remain in love with you, and it remains just like that.

I can't make you love me. or you can say you do, but because I know better, I know, it's just not what I want.

I just wish this would stop, you know. the pretending. But really, I don't know how it could, I don't know if we'd ever have the guts to end it.

Hell I don't know if I have the strength to myself.

You'll leave me in pieces, you know?

And what hurts is the thought that nobody else wants something broken.

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