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Beyond Repair
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kevin,
so i just wrote an entire longwinded, heartwrenching, soulspilling letter to you. then
i deleted it.
stupid me. so now i have to write one with much less meaning because i'm pilled out, and i can't stay awake much longer. and that whole pilled out thing is sort of supposed to scream...
DISCLAIMER: any of the contents of this letter may be nonsensical or offensive but is meant for neither.
that said, where to start. shit, i don't know how to fit all that stuff in the last letter into a little letter that you won't get bored with.
start with why i called maranda and started that whole conversation. a few reasons.
-you tell me constantly what a liar you are, and you're a great actor. i never know which side to believe. you wear so many faces. how am i supposed to know which one is true and when you're just hiding behind some pretense.
-the night before you got robbed you said you were going to bed around ten. so i hooked up with tony and we picked up his friends alex. alex had a blunt to smoke with us so tony drove around. well alex lives down the Arby's road on one of the sidestreets. so guess what neighborhood we were smoking pot in? yeah. so tony knows that i've got these feelings for you and that i don't want to think about you because i do it enough. he also has no idea where you live which is how i wanted to keep it. he was about to turn down your road and i asked him not to. and he'll get weird on me and have to know why. he sometimes acts like we're going out and he has to know everything about my life. when i wouldn't tell him [because he would've guessed that it was something about you], he decided to be a dick and drive down it. well, i'm sorry, when i drive past your house, i look at it, i do the same thing when i drive past mike's or bekki's, whatever. it's a normal thing, human nature. well, it's like 2am or something and the lights are off and a grey cavalier is in the driveway. didn't think anything of it.[i hope all of this is actually making sense, cuz again, i'm pilled out and writing the longest sentences ever. my brain's not functioning so well right now]
i didn't even know she drove that till the next day when you told me cuz you thought she stole your shit. so then i'm like ok. hmm. i start thinking. then when she came over and you found out she didn't do it, you were comforting her [understandable], but it seemed more intimate than just 'we only spent a weekend hanging out'. so i kept thinking about talking to you about it, but you were having a shitty day. and on your shitty days i'm scared to even talk around you. scared that i might fuck up and piss you off, and you're very frightening when you're pissed.
i knew that if i asked maranda, i'd probably lose you. i love you, and i didn't want that, but i also had to know. i'm not sure what level of trust you expect from me, but i can't give you as much as you'd like right now. you act like you don't want me around, two days later i'm a cutie, you want to be with only me. and i'm so confused, i don't know what to think. if you can be that cruel, then you don't love me. if you can be so sweet you must love me. these are the things in my head. you say you're a great actor, do it all the time, so why are you so upset that i could be confused as to your real intentions.
the first time we fought, when i moved out, i started that. i fucked up. i still don't think that the way you handled it was right, but i admit to my mistake, and you've apologized. beyond that, [except for possibly annoying you by suffocating you or something] i really can't think of anything i've done horribly wrong. then you tell you i'm just a friend you sometimes fuck, and i forgave that too. i'm supposed to just believe that you love me when it's so easy to evict me from your life? it's just confusing. this isn't a guilt trip, just my feelings and thought on the situation. i'm not trying to throw shit in your face, i'm just saying that everyone's a fuckup. i am, you are, the world is. whenever we go through shit like this, i don't talk to you at all for like a week. you don't call, don't answer when i call, and i don't just drop by your house, so. i guess i'm just asking for some forgiveness. if that's a capability for you, please do.
all of this is in no way an attempt to win you back. i'm not saying i believe you, or completely believe her. i believe that you may have kept things from me. or left me to believe something that wasn't true. i don't know, i don't suppose it matters much. i'm still sorry. you are my closest friend, i don't talk to anyone like i talk to you. and if you and maranda ever did go out, you don't have to worry about me causing drama, so you can't use that as an excuse for not talking to me.
i'm pretty sure some of this came out sounding bitchy. sorry, it's hard to keep a steady flow of thoughts. my brain's fuzzy.
what's that gun doing there?
being gunlike? gunesque? gunonic?
where did it come from?
god?
i have fun with you. fuck this stupid relationship bullshit. if you don't want one with me[and i understand why], cool. it doesn't mean we can't still enjoy each other's company. i've been trying not to call too much. i'll keep that up.
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020423
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