First, I haven’t purged in a week. I’m now vegetarian and yes I still want to purge, that’s why I’m going to see someone. But I promised I would control myself until then, so I am.
God. Screw it. Up there, that picture - that was us. You know when “us” was a thing. Well, he - you - threw it away, I think by now you realize that. So now “you and I” are what you call “friends.” And you know, I’ve been trying to be a good friend because I think we, excuse me, you and I could have a fucking amazing friendship. But here’s the thing, I’ve been there for you, when you need to talk - when you need money. But you, you can’t even hold a conversation when I’m on the verge of emotionally and physically breaking down. When I tell you I’d rather get hit by a car all you can give me are one word replies. You used me. Funny thing is, that’s not even the point of this. I don’t give a shit about petty crap like that. The point of this is, you asked why. You asked why I did what i did and still have every temptation to do again. And I said I didn’t know because I didn’t, and I told you it wasn’t you because I didn’t think it was, so I made a blog - this web page you’re reading - to find support (because the fact of the matter is that you, my friend, didn’t support me), and maybe find out WHY I feel like I have to do it. Not too long into it, it became very apparent what thoughts and feelings and things were to “blame.” It wasn’t that you’re too much of a coward to take a risk, get over you’re own stupid pride, and admit you were wrong (because right now yes, you’re probably angry, you’ll probably get on Facebook and unfriend me (oooooo… I’m sooo hurt) and post some status about how you don’t need anyone and how no one gives a shit and you’re just “doing you”) but at the end of the day, you know you were wrong. “We” both KNOW you miss that picture. The happiness. Holding me. Kissing me. Getting away with the back of the car and shower (mhmm I know you remember). How I fit right into your chest no matter how we were standing, walking, sitting, or laying. How no matter what, all you have to do to smile is look at me (which I’d bet is still true.) How we could do nothing or everything and still feel happy, you know - complete Cheri. All of that is in this picture, all of that is what “we” were, what you threw away, and what we both know you will miss for the rest of your life because you’re too proud and too scared to go after it again. The way you ripped all of that out from under me, the hole it has left in me, the walls it forced me to build, and the loneliness and emptiness that I must face everyday hiding behind those walls so I can be sure my heart is never ever torn out from inside me again - that’s why. The fact that all of that, all the pain you caused, all of the things you threw away, still isn’t fucking enough for you to make a single attempt to fix it - even to try to be a good friend - that’s why.
So go ahead, go get angry about this post. Go unfriend me. Go post your status about how you don’t need anyone but yourself, how everyone lets you down, how you don’t miss “us,” and how this picture doesn’t mean anything to you. Because Cheri, I see right through that and I think you do too. I know this truth hurts, I know you didn’t want to hear that you’re the reason, that I can see that you’re scared, and even that you don’t want to admit to yourself that you miss “us.” Cause you WANT to think you don’t need anyone - because you know the one person you do want is on her way out (funny thing is she’s leaving to run away from the very pain you caused and won’t try to take away.) But here’s the hard truth love, wrapped up nice and pretty in this blog of 70 posts inspired by the one and only you Cheri. And this blog, though not known by too many who know me, is not private, you can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist. You can’t just burn it and act like it never happened. I know you’re curious as to what’s in it - read it. Other people have. Some of the pictures have even been shared around tumblr a bit, because it’s real. And some day, when you do wake up and absolutely know that this whole time you knew I am the only one who can make you feel the way you felt the day this picture was taken, the day you gave me your class ring, the day you gave me your grandmother’s cross, the day you gave me her engagement ring, the day I said “Hell yes”, and every day that I laid in your arms and could look up and make you smile and hear your heart speed up uncontrollably simply because I was there, this blog will be here. And maybe one of the times you see it you’ll finally at least attempt to make up for the broken promises that caused this pain. I love you Cheri, always have and I always will. I’m sorry the truth hurts.
