I don't know either

Back when my friend group was 60% larger (and I felt 100% less valued), I used to fantasize about just disappearing. Moving to a place where no one knew my name, and not tell anyone. It was an exciting and enthralling hypothetical adventure where I met new people and was accepted and had a nice clean slate.

Part of me always knew I'd do it. Not the disappearing without warning part, but going off on a new adventure somewhere else. I never liked living in California. I mean - I didn't hate it. But I was born to experience weather other than a light rain and year round 70% humidity.

And yet, somehow, now that I know it's coming? I'm almost scared.

If there was a door in front of you that you knew would close as soon as you stepped through, would you still go?

Or would you stick with the world you know, where things are familiar and safe?

I guess I hadn't really realized that I'd outgrown this place until now. My job is great, but it's not what I want, and there hasn't been any opportunities to move up. The responsibilities I'd taken on were gratifying, but I still feel like I can do more. I know I'm capable of it.

Everything was an excuse to ask me not to talk to you that day. I had to remember your weekly schedule so I could have some idea of when I might hear from you, or whether or not I would be able to reach out. I couldn't lean on you like I used to, and even still I shrunk back and apologized for accidentally trying to talk to you on your dnd day. To the point where the following Thursday, despite me not having said a word to you, you made a point to tell me to simply not contact you that day.

It's been years. I like to think I'm over it but sometimes I get rocked with a bout of loneliness and helplessness and I wonder if you think of me at all anymore, even half as much as I do you.

What annoys me the most is that I still miss you. I shouldn't. I should be able to just start over with something on a new account so I knew you wouldn't follow me or be able to find me and not worry about you anymore. And yet.

Sometimes I think about what I'd say if you reached out. Would I say everything that's been on my mind the last few years? How I felt when I realized you weren't ever coming back? What you took when you left? Or would you have gotten me at a rare moment of nostalgia and convinced me to give you another chance.

I know you were going through stuff. It was all we'd talk about at the end. I hope you're doing better, genuinely. But. Damn, it really felt like I was working so hard just to get your attention when I was already the lowest point on your priority list.

I'd exhaust myself checking discord or tumblr, wondering if you were online. Try and have some subjects on hand in case you needed a distraction asap. For what?

I tore myself apart for your entertainment and you just closed your door.

Why do I still fucking miss you when I know you don't even care about me anymore. Why am I still wasting energy on something that died years ago. Fantasizing about what I'd say if we ever got in contact, and yet when you liked some posts I reblogged on my old account I deleted the whole thing.

Why do you always seem to come up when I'm at my lowest. A ghost ready to kick me when I'm down. A never ending cycle of being over it and then getting my ass kicked a month later.

No?

He left to go see other friends, friends that used to be mine. And now that I'm here and he's over there I'm just. Sad. Sad that we could have done this all together. Like in a way I am so grateful to have one on one time with him, one of the biggest reasons is because I actually get to talk and not just listen.

But I'm also bummed that I could have had more time with him if those other friends actually like.. cared to keep me in their lives. We could have gone to a big dinner and caught up and told old stories. Enjoyed each other's company like we used to.

It would have been superficial, but it would have been nice. Just seeing my list of friends dwindle down while everyone else is thriving hurts sometimes.

I'm so mad that this is still affecting me this way. I hate that he has to worry about saying their names around me. I'm tired of feeling undervalued and unwanted by the people I tried for so long to gain favor from. I wish things were different.

And I know social media is a lie but I've never had a post made about me in my birthday and I follow someone who does that for her friends and I know she won't do it for me and I hate that I'm jealous of that.

We took a boat out to the sea

And made an island with canopies,

Of our own design.

We had a secret, him and me.

We took a train to NYC,

Moved through the city expertly

Grace and love, defined.

We had a secret—no, just me

I took a plane to Albany,

Closed my eyes, counted to three,