You have to get used to the fact that things will never work out as planned. Ever. You go to sleep telling yourself that you’re happy and you wonder why you wake up sobbing in the middle of night. You tell yourself you have enough friends to never feel lonely but somehow they’re never around unless you desperatley ask for their help. It’s not like you don’t appreciate their attempts at comforting you when a tragedy arises, but sometimes a simple conversation over a soda goes further. And you can’t sleep until you’ve cried your bit because you know things won’t work out as planned. And because you do feel lonely. And because you feel the entire world crashing inside you. Because it’s 3:34 AM and there is no one besides you.
A. has changed so much it scares me. It’s so silly to use the first letter of names to avoid disclosing them. But that is irrelevant. Honestly, she’s become most of the things I tend to strongly dislike. Self-sufficient. Worn out. Confined. Jaded. I understand that she’s tired. I understand that she’s gone through a lot in the past year. I guess that’s why I try to ignore all the changes. Despite feeling like talking to a stranger sometimes when talking to her. Despite feeling as if we’re never going to be as close as we were again. And I do this because I’m confused. I don’t know what else to do. Who else to turn to. I feel isolated.
Time has a tendency to fuck everything. I hate it.