Would you be happy, or would you be disappointed? What goes around, comes around, doesn’t it? Do you believe that? Do I believe it? Is there anything that can really be believed or is it just a fleeting moment that’s never given a second thought?
If I treated you the way you treated me, you wouldn’t hold your breath. You would be destroyed. Lost. Abandoned. Just like me. You’re no better than me. Neither am I than you.
You look at me once. I appreciate it.
You look at me twice. I’m glad.
You look at me thrice. I’m overjoyed.
You look away and I fall apart.
You rely on me to answer before your thumb print has the chance to leave its mark on the key. The key that connects me to you, you to me. When I hold the phone patiently waiting to hear your voice, I get an automated one in return. Dare I ask you why, you turn your back. Dare I do the same, I walk into a wall of fury and hatred.
What did I do to deserve this? I ask you, but you refuse to answer. Every day, I silently sit and wait on the bench for you to arrive. I wait, and wait, but to no avail. I pause. Reconsider why I am even waiting, but then I remember. If I treated you the way you treat me, then we would never be in this situation.
We would be apart. Further than the physical distance between us. You are cold and uncaring towards me, yet expect me to be warm and caring in return. Fire and ice can be a beautiful thing once combined, but as soon as they touch, they evaporate. So I ask you, is it even worth it?
I try and try, to the point where I lay down, curl up and cry. I’m hopeless. I know. A lost cause if you will. I try and cling to you, while you shrug me off like some pest.
I extend my hand to you, and you smack it back in my face. Have I really disappointed you so? At night, I lie awake and stare at the pale moonlit ceiling. Thoughts run through my head faster than lost animals searching for their way back home.
I ask for your friendship, you give me regret and pain, but I cling on. You ask me for friendship, I give you memories and a smile, but you push me over the cliff behind me.
I ask why. Tears stream down my face, and all you do is smile. You’re relieved. You’re glad. And I’m happy for you. I watch you turn your back and walk away while I lay down and bleed.
But I’m glad. You’re happy, and that’s all I care about. You had your fun at my expense, and I accepted it.
If I treated you like you treat me, how long would it take me to turn into you? Because I know that you could never turn into me.