Final scrap

a tiny sliver, folded in four and tucked away.

"why didn't you tell me about your accident? am i supposed to find out by reading your blog?"
people learn by rote. you were never interested in what i've done,
so why start now? even when i was far more upset at work,
you so easily cut me off, veer back towards your day.
could you care if i'd died?
honestly, i think not.

afterall, i've stopped singing over the phone.
but i bet you never realised it.

--------------------

once upon a time,
you said i could ask you to fuck off
if i wasn't interested in talking to you online.
obviously, it was a one-time offer.

other times, i'm just being "rude".

---------------------

"talk to me".
crock of bs, completely.
i tried to explain.
i'd wanted to take you out to the movies, to the beach, to beautiful dinners et al.
you said, "i have other friends for that."
how callous. how hurtful. how cruel.
you didn't see the point i was trying to make, did you.

in the end, i was only... a convenient tool.

trapped in your expectations.

how ironic.

it hurts to see myself so... dehumanized. worse, to know i tolerated it because i promised i wouldn't have any of you.

to see from another's perspective. that's one thing i learnt from before, and it backfired most gloriously.

------------------------

"... knowing i'm not loving you back with such intensity... please bear with me while this lasts."

another beautifully constructed lie, designed to mollify. and worked all too well.

stupid.