...and Jay fucks things up again...
12.09.2002 - 11:54 PM
it was bound to happen...
i wrote what i felt, and the result fucking hit me like a bullet aimed straight at my forehead.
i started this journal(or diary, whatever) a year and a half ago so i could have some kind of recollection, some kind of outlet, some kind of comfort; a way in which i could look back and reminisce, a way i could look back and say, "oh yeah, i remember how i felt that day."
i look back at it sometimes, and it brings me back to what happened at that particular time, whether it was good or bad, and makes me wonder sometimes, "what if?"
what if i hadn't gone on that trip?
what if i had brought my dad to the hospital that night?
what if i hadn't have brought so much money to that strip club?
what if i had never written about her so long ago?
she read what i wrote about her and her boyfriend in the last entry, which to be honest, i totally forgot what i wrote.
and she's pissed.
she's not just pissed.
i mean she's "I-WANNA-RIP-YOUR-
ARMS-FROM-YOUR-TORSO-AND-
FEED-THEM-TO-THE-FUCKING-
WOLVES-YOU-FUCKING-BASTARD-SO-
DON'T-FUCK-WITH-ME" kind of pissed.
i read that entry again, and i must admit, i would be severely pissed too if that was written about me.
so once again, i fuck up.
and now she's pissed at me.
what am i supposed to say to her? what, am i supposed to say,
"yeah, i am jealous of the guy! and yeah, it's been over a year now and i'm still not over you...
fuck.
back when i wrote this, i vowed afterwards not to mention our situation at work, or anything about her and him, or him and her, or us and them, and whatever.
looks like i didn't do a good job, did i.
but how am i supposed to keep writing what i write here without thinking that i'm gonna piss someone else off and lose another friend? i write what i feel at that particular moment, hit the "enter" button, and forget about it until i just happen to come across it a couple of months down the road.
i want to delete the entry. but i know i shouldn't.
and you know what? i think she was just finally beginning to be comfortable with me again. like we could joke around about the fact that i liked her, and have Ben or whoever crack jokes and she wouldn't look all nervous and shit. or we could be in the same room again and we could hold a normal conversation and she wouldn't hesitate to speak.
but i fucked up.
again.
i write shit. i talk shit. i say what's on my mind whereever, whenever, however. i'm not going to beat around the bush. i see no need to do that most of the time. i usually know where to draw the line.
but this time i think i crossed it, and now i'm paying the price.
~~~~~~~~
i'm sorry. if there was a way to hide my feelings for you, i'd do it. if there was a way i could change myself and be less aggressive and insulting and sarcastic, i'd do it. if there was any way i could take back what i wrote, you know i would do it.
i'm sorry i hurt you. you know that i would rather die a slow painful tortuous death before even thinking of doing anything to hurt you. the thought of not even having you as a friend absolutely kills me.
now if i could just get the balls to say that to her face...
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