I know that you went straight to someone else
While I worked through all this sht here by myself
-Ben Folds, "Gone"
Hate is a very strong word, and I try not to use it. But sometimes, it just can't be held back and it suddenly emerges in my thoughts. At this moment, I can say without reservation that I hate her. Yes, I will probably head straight to hell for saying that, but at this point, I feel I'm there already.
Currently, I'm sandwiched in a group of her devoted followers as they continually rant and rave about how great and talanted and nice she is. Yeah, what a gal. So maybe I'm not completely over the fact she pretended to be my friend and then preceded to pounce on him the second we broke up. And yes, I will freely admit a lot of bitterness probably stems from huge amounts of jealously and resentment, but that doesn't move from the point that I really hate her. I can't even say her name without wanting to vomit. Hey, at least I'm honest.
The crowd finally breaks and Lucuas finds his way toward me.
"You ready?"
I nod my head as we head toward the car. Being the incredibly nice best friend I am, I offered to take him shopping for some dress clothes for the annual basketball gala. I've never been and secretly, I've always hoped he'll ask me. In the three years we've been at college, he's taken her every time. It's a complicated story, but I'll just leave it at he moved on quickly after we separated. Yet, despite this, it's become some twisted tradition that I help him choose the outfit of the night. Don't ask. I'm not sure myself what's wrong with me.
By the time we reach the mall, his phone has rang three times. And the ride was only 20 minutes. Like I've said before, he has a long list of girls that idolize him. And all three of these calls were from girls out of town. I can't understand how one guy can have this many females, especially one with his player reputation. I walk silently ahead of him and block the conversation out. This is going to be a long day.
Shopping with Haley is one of my favorite things to do. She's a quick shopper, goes straight for the sales and doesn't ponder for hours on whether or not the shoes go with the purse or the dress. She's not that kind of girl. And yet, she still manages to find the perfect dress shirt and tie for me everytime.
She's wandering aimlessly around the female side of the store now. In her shorts, t-shirt and tennis shoes, she sticks out among the heavily made-up girls with their tight designer fashion. She catches my gaze and rolls her eyes, giving an indication that we need to get out as soon as possible. I told her she should go to the gala, but I know she won't. No matter how many people she knows (and they all like her), she will still feel like an outsider and the night will be miserable. So I don't push it. She's not one for dressing up anyways.
On our way to the car, Haley quietly reminds me to buy my date some flowers and offers to take me to the florist before the event. I wave her off. She does enough for me already, although I probably don't thank her enough or show my appreciation. She's being unusally quiet today and the inner voice that is seemingly constantly around when I'm with her whispers that it's probably because of me. But I ignore it. Because that's what I do. And life continues on, even with the big elephant in the room
Hate is a very strong word, and I try not to use it. But sometimes, it just can't be held back and it suddenly emerges in my thoughts. At this moment, I can say without reservation that I hate her. Yes, I will probably head straight to hell for saying that, but at this point, I feel I'm there already.
Currently, I'm sandwiched in a group of her devoted followers as they continually rant and rave about how great and talanted and nice she is. Yeah, what a gal. So maybe I'm not completely over the fact she pretended to be my friend and then preceded to pounce on him the second we broke up. And yes, I will freely admit a lot of bitterness probably stems from huge amounts of jealously and resentment, but that doesn't move from the point that I really hate her. I can't even say her name without wanting to vomit. Hey, at least I'm honest.
The crowd finally breaks and Lucuas finds his way toward me.
"You ready?"
I nod my head as we head toward the car. Being the incredibly nice best friend I am, I offered to take him shopping for some dress clothes for the annual basketball gala. I've never been and secretly, I've always hoped he'll ask me. In the three years we've been at college, he's taken her every time. It's a complicated story, but I'll just leave it at he moved on quickly after we separated. Yet, despite this, it's become some twisted tradition that I help him choose the outfit of the night. Don't ask. I'm not sure myself what's wrong with me.
By the time we reach the mall, his phone has rang three times. And the ride was only 20 minutes. Like I've said before, he has a long list of girls that idolize him. And all three of these calls were from girls out of town. I can't understand how one guy can have this many females, especially one with his player reputation. I walk silently ahead of him and block the conversation out. This is going to be a long day.
Shopping with Haley is one of my favorite things to do. She's a quick shopper, goes straight for the sales and doesn't ponder for hours on whether or not the shoes go with the purse or the dress. She's not that kind of girl. And yet, she still manages to find the perfect dress shirt and tie for me everytime.
She's wandering aimlessly around the female side of the store now. In her shorts, t-shirt and tennis shoes, she sticks out among the heavily made-up girls with their tight designer fashion. She catches my gaze and rolls her eyes, giving an indication that we need to get out as soon as possible. I told her she should go to the gala, but I know she won't. No matter how many people she knows (and they all like her), she will still feel like an outsider and the night will be miserable. So I don't push it. She's not one for dressing up anyways.
On our way to the car, Haley quietly reminds me to buy my date some flowers and offers to take me to the florist before the event. I wave her off. She does enough for me already, although I probably don't thank her enough or show my appreciation. She's being unusally quiet today and the inner voice that is seemingly constantly around when I'm with her whispers that it's probably because of me. But I ignore it. Because that's what I do. And life continues on, even with the big elephant in the room