23 June. 15 days. That’s the longest I’ve done, I think, since this whole thing started. Can you get withdrawal symptoms from a person? Probably.
How long ago was it – 1 hour? An hour. No. HALF an hour. I don’t know. I don’t CARE.
He didn’t reply anyway, which is expected now, but still.
I don’t even want to remember what I wrote. Just asking if we were friends and how he was doing. Pathetic, for me; usually, I write more fluently. I guess I’ve just slipped out of habit because it’s been so “long”.
I’m not doing well. When I sent that message, I literally felt something twinge. It’s like when the walls close in on you, or they FEEL like they’re getting smaller. My wrists feel weak, and I had pain in my chest and a freezing feeling ALL OVER.
I’m getting flashbacks. Memories. Really awful ones. Awful, because they’re nice. Nice conversations. His voice. Standing in front of him. I only had that memory two times, and I remember them so clearly and I NEED to hold onto that. Laughing, smiling, getting the solid feeling in my chest that felt like butterflies, which was reassurance. Every time I got knocked down, he helped me. Every time he needed advice, I gave it, because I knew he’d always do the same for me. Every time we talked, I knew I loved him; every time we shared another part of our lives, we helped each other. Until we didn’t.
It’s like a fairy tale, but with no happy ending. There isn’t even a rebound to turn to because I might have talked to Birch once about this, but would he listen now?
I feel sick. I feel SO sick. I’ve moved on, I think, but I feel miserable and voletile, and I NEED someone. I love Ash. I think I will for a very long time, because I know too much about him to NOT understand him (I don’t understand him NOW, but I did). The only way I can get rid of that is to smash that emotion onto someone else and I CAN’T do that, because that’s unfair.
I’m more coherent than usual. I don’t feel like destroying everything. Right now, it’s not THAT kind of pain or sadness. I can usually tell.
Not that he cares, but I’d like him to. Not that he’s spoken to me properly in a long time, but I’d like him to. I just want to talk to him, you know? Find out if he’s okay. And that is the most cliché phrase I’ve ever heard, but who cares? I honestly don’t really mind about myself, but him? He’s one of the most loyal friends, when he IS your friend. He’s caring, when he’s your friend.
Whoops, looks like he’s not my friend. News fucking flash.
His name keeps on creeping up. His personality. Him. Phrases he said. That solid feeling of reassurance he let me feel.
I just miss him, I suppose. I’m not meaning to be depressive, but I can’t help it.
I think I need help. Proper help. I can’t tell my parents because they know nothing of what’s going on. I don’t want them to worry. I don’t want my other friends to worry.
I just feel really hollow, I suppose. It’s like the feeling where you HOPE for something but no matter what, it never comes. You get the leaping fear in your chest but you’re too scared, and you phrased it wrong.
I’m sorry. I need to be happier. Perhaps I should message or talk to Birch, but he’d never reply anyway. I don’t really see the point, to be honest.
I’m not VERY miserable. Just resigned. It’s not fair of me to say that, though. I SHOULDN’T be resigned. This isn’t a big deal, is it? It SHOULDN’T be.
Friends come, and friends go, and friends change, and PEOPLE change and I should just get over it. I tell myself that, but it hurts so much. He was only my friend for a year, but in that year we learned so much and grew so much and I loved so deeply and now it HURTS.
I can’t hate him. I can’t think of him as some bastard who broke my heart. He IS, but that’s not the point. I just CAN’T hate him.
I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to write this, but I need to remind myself of how I feel.
I need to do more to help you guys. Read more, comment more, give advice more, do ANYTHING but this. Anything but beating myself up. No matter what, though, I always think it’s my fault. If I’d been different, he would have trusted me NOW. We wouldn’t have suddenly just stopped talking.
Did the friendship mean something to him? Did those late night messages impact him, in any way? Did he ever feel like I did, staying up and reading them and just breathing, breathing, or was he talking to other people besides me and I didn’t matter? I HAVE to had mattered. That’s the one thing I ask.
I want my best friend back.