He stared at his phone. To an observer he would have seemed cold and calculated, feeling his phone, weighing it up just as he was weighing up his options. On the inside, turmoil. He had an explanation but no one to listen to it. He deserved it. He read the message again;
I know that i’m completely done with you for good, but i don’t think you actually understand the gravity of what you’ve done, especially when you came over and basically got mad at me after what youdid. Or when you tried aggravate the situation by infuriating me even more.
This isn’t a joke.
You need to know how much you hurt me (although it probably doesn’t even bother you). Never have I felt so hurt about something. I cared about you so much and trusted you more than anyone. You broke that in an effortless and horrific manner; I had never regretted anything before I found out and now, everything is marred.
After all we had been through, and all the times I had been there for you and forgiven you and just cared for you…. I didn’t deserve it.
The fact you could hurt someone so deeply, and not care, and still act so coldly and cynical about it makes it even worse, especially considering I never did anything to warrant it. Why you would try or want to hurt or break someone so deeply? I don’t get what hurting me helped you gain.
My friendship turnover rate is higher than Don Bradman’s batting average or greater than the American debt. Recently I was told that if i’m aware of it then I’m aware of my actions and their effects; ability requires consciousness The questions raised above should have answers but I just do not know them.
But what happens once you screw something up beyond the point of redemption, just like in the situation above?
Silence. That pervasive silence that filters through empty houses and hang pictures of itself on walls.
It is during these moments that I look at the words I’ve written and say ‘there is no shelter in you anywhere.