"Someone Like You"

"When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully on the closed door we do not see the one which has opened for us." ~ Anonymous.

This is what I think as I watch you walk away from the corner of my burning eyes, the words you had just spoken like smoke streaming in the air behind your hair, still a bit quiet and cold as you do when standing your ground. I suppose you had reason to do this because I was acting like a nervous wreck, twisting my shirt in my hands and tumbling over words that came out the opposite way I wanted them to be. I'm sure you can feel the heat from my body as I stand there not knowing what to do, waiting for you to come back and kiss me upon the lips. Even though that didn't I happen I smile like it did taking the first shaky step in the wrong way of my class though my teacher sees me and tells me to follow him. My body trails behind like a dog on a leash being put down. That's what I feel like, a dog being carried away to be killed because it's worthless and no one wants it anymore. Like that boy said "I think people who cut themselves are worthless" after asking if I had hurt myself, gesturing to the gauze wrapped around my wrist from a previous attempt at death.

My friend follows behind me into the room as I mindlessly take wide steps to my coat, sweat bulleting off my forehead and collecting under my bra and back as I begin to hyperventilate and have a panic attack. Blur over black and red and blue of my sleeve as I yank it up sitting on the stool in the bathroom with my arm on my lap, blade to my already cut wrist. With a tug and dip I bury the edge into the cut, dragging it back and forth over it until I see blood pool over the wound and drip down. "Fuck." I say when it drips onto the floor and I clasp my hand over it, not because I wanted to live but because I didn't want my last words being "I'm sorry for getting blood everywhere". As the bones that are my favorite part of my body shiver while walking out of the bathroom and quickly grabbing a papertowel to press against my wrist I realize that I am in school and people are staring at me. Including the teacher so I slink to my seat and hold my wrist between my thigh as I apply minimal pressure with my other hand, no one says anything and they hardly notice the red blooming on the brown of the towel.

"I had the craziest dream last night about this girl that was turned into a swan, but her prince fell for the wrong girl and she kills herself." ~ Nina Sayers.

We have nothing in common? You write, I write. You sing, I sing. You love Emilie Autumn, I love Emilie Autumn. You like dying your hair funny colors, I like dying my hair funny colors. You dress weird, I dress weird. You use the word 'durr' in everyday convosation, I use the word 'durr' in everyday convosation. What do we not have in common? Our futures? That wouldn't matter anymore anyway because we won't have a future together except as friends--well not anymore. I wonder how people would react if I killed myself or went to the hospital for trying to. I thought that if I told you what was happening you'd smile at me and hug me and then I could hug you but instead you told me that our falling out was my fault, as if I had made up my problems just for fun. As if I wanted to have these issues that made my selfish somehow.

"It was always your problems first and there was always one problem after another. I tried to help you but you never helped me." ~ You.

I'm sorry for not being there for you.
I'm sorry for being a bad girlfriend.
I'm sorry for being a bad friend.
I'm sorry for being hurt in my past.
I'm sorry for not dealing with my problems.
I'm sorry for hurting you.
I'm sorry for making you cry.
I'm sorry for making you think I gave up.
I'm sorry for everything.
I'm sorry for still loving you.
I'm sorry for not wanting to share you.

But most of all, I'm sorry for inconveniencing you.