(All the stuff in bold comes from JubyPhonic's cover of "Lost Time Memory". Credit for that goes to her. She sings good.)
Entry 1
Years run by and I’m living with your shadow… Even after everything that’s happened to me, you’re still on my mind so often, as you had been before, but, the memories used to be pleasant, now they’re anything but... All I feel when I think about you is all the pain I felt afterwards, and I’m feeling it more for every day that goes by. For all that changed, for all I came to accept, I still occasionally sit alone sometimes, pondering that time as I draw away the painfully annoying thoughts in my mind.
Where did it start for sure? I don’t know anymore, I blocked that happy thought from my memory when I knew it was all for nothing in the end and couldn’t bring it back when the regret set in. Speaking of the end though, that resonates loud and clear. I remember we were sitting together on an old, creaky wooden bench under the shade of a big oak, our eyes squinting as we tried to fight the brightness of the sun, still bright in the midst of dusk, looking down at a hilly road that laid before us. I have to wonder how romantic we looked from an outsider’s perspective, looking at the hazy shape of a boy and a girl who seemed hopelessly in love. So ironic, so painfully ironic. To them the light must’ve made us look so warm and hopeful, when in reality, as you told me it wasn’t working, it could never work… the rays of sun, far from comforting, would give way to seeing, painful solar knives stabbing holes of the heat in my watering, bloodshot eyes.
“You know I still want to be friends more than anything… You know that, right?” You said. How I can remember you saying anything to me is a mystery in itself, everything felt like it was going to melt away in the orange sky.
“Why don’t you just say the truth and say you hate me, huh? Just butt out and stop lying in front of my damn face!” I shouted to you as I shot up from my seated position, not wanting to spend a moment more beside you after the heartbreak you were throwing in my face. “You could have just told me to disappear and never come back if that’s all you wanted to tell me, at least then I would’ve thought you were being honest!” I said, brushing off the hand that helped me as I went to run, but I felt you grabbing my arm to stop me.
“I won’t leave you,” You were firmly yelling as you moved your hand down my arm, grabbing at the hand that I held back for a brief moment, but, at that point everything felt so numb to me, the warmth you used to give me went cold as ice.
“You’re annoying” I barely remember telling you, moving away to walk ahead and never looking back, and I remember much more vividly, my inner thoughts saying that I “won’t even let you get another glance at my face as I leave you.” I’d never stooped to such a despicable level before… but maybe it all stemmed from the fact that I truly thought you could never stop loving me, and, in that delusional idealism I lived under, I still can’t help but wonder… Was it even the real you that I knew?
I don’t know for sure now, and I didn’t know then… but the difference was back then I didn’t care. To me, it was just as simple as “Okay, Lesson Learned, I’m never bothering with something like that again.” I was fooling myself naturally, denying how hurt I was, not realizing I was just making it worse by thinking ‘I don’t need to turn to the next page of my life myself, it just goes on,’ while I just sat about doing nothing, completely unaware that I was subconsciously just proclaiming ‘Nothing’s worth the effort anymore so I’ll just rot away here.’
God I was so stupid, so damn stupid… You had your reasons to break it off, but I didn’t even think about that, I was just thinking about my own feelings, and I never bothered to think about how much it was crushing you to admit what you probably had such a difficult time to say up front. But, of course, hindsight is 20/20… A time machine turning back to the day I made everything so terrible would be nice. I could slap past me in the face and tell him not to give up someone he cherished, not to be such a jerk to someone who was just speaking the truth. Maybe then you’d still be here… Maybe then I could have said all this to you and you’d have been there to listen. But no, years will fly by, and I’ll be in this gloom through it all, but I’m living, because I’m afraid of dying, and my stupid, stupid optimism will continue to be drawing out hopes of “maybe someday” though I know, beyond that idealistic bullshit that I can’t seem to get rid of, that I am never to see you again.
I don’t wonder why you disappeared, I don’t want to think about the details, every time I tried to before, it just made me feel like I wanna die. Even now, thinking about it like this it makes me feel that way. I just wanna die, but every time I feel this way, I end up just grabbing my own hand, the last one that touched yours, cursing it to hell for letting yours go, not staying to listen and understand why you were doing what you were doing as I sat there lamenting my own sorrows. But there’s not a thing I can do about any of that now, and councilors, therapists and family members have all tried to tell me this too. I just have to accept that I’m still here and you’re probably not, so, might as well live it up while I’m still alive and I’m breathing. I can’t even write that out without cringing. So damn selfish… what, so, you’re gone, so, life goes on? How can they expect me to be so passive to this? It’s not possible, yet, in this midsummer dream I feel I’m stuck in every night, maybe I’ll eventually see the younger me that I was playing the part of, and understand, once more, that happy-go-lucky loser with the greatest girlfriend in the world, before you flew free and I no longer kept you down… I know, I’m manipulating things, making myself out to be some oppressive force that was keeping you from doing anything, as if I was actually truly hurting you by being a part of your life like that when I wasn’t. You wouldn’t have smiled so genuinely to me so often if I was, back in the days where I had hidden myself in the haze of my positivity. But clearly there was something wrong with me all along since I had no idea I was slowly running ablaze with those thoughts, and slowly hurting myself, storing away burning red thoughts of anger and disdain in my brain, just waiting for a moment like our last to have it all come out at once.
I’m gonna be 18 years old soon. A boy no longer. I need to start thinking like an adult before then, understand I’m living in reality, that it’s a waste of time to think of another girl ever showing up in my life and thinking of me the same way you did. It’s pointless to wait for her to fall from somewhere, especially when, every time I try to talk to anyone new at all, I just end up remembering the figures, the people I’d come to know and care for, blurring in the Summer in a single heartbeat, disappearing all at once all over again, leaving me alone, leaving me without any desire to befriend anyone else if they’re just going to leave eventually too. Just this year, first day of our second year of high school, I was shading my eyes to fight the sun in the desert that was the school grounds. Always when the sun is so annoyingly bright this stuff seems to happen, huh? I firmly remember a friendly classmate of mine, had a cute little clover pin on her shirt that I couldn’t help but notice as it glimmered in the light. She gave me a smile from ear to ear, but every time someone gives me such a cheerful sort of look, it resounds in my head, the same corrupted question… “Why don’t we play a game where I tear out your heart just like before?” And it’s just another round of ignoring the cheery face as you go ‘round my stream of consciousness for another lap of guilt. I need to get out of the house… Go for a drive… maybe I’ll finally find you. You’ve been gone for so long, you’re probably so scared… I’ll find you, and then I can finally say I’m sorry… Mom won’t mind if I take the van out for a bit, especially for a cause like this.
Entry 1
Years run by and I’m living with your shadow… Even after everything that’s happened to me, you’re still on my mind so often, as you had been before, but, the memories used to be pleasant, now they’re anything but... All I feel when I think about you is all the pain I felt afterwards, and I’m feeling it more for every day that goes by. For all that changed, for all I came to accept, I still occasionally sit alone sometimes, pondering that time as I draw away the painfully annoying thoughts in my mind.
Where did it start for sure? I don’t know anymore, I blocked that happy thought from my memory when I knew it was all for nothing in the end and couldn’t bring it back when the regret set in. Speaking of the end though, that resonates loud and clear. I remember we were sitting together on an old, creaky wooden bench under the shade of a big oak, our eyes squinting as we tried to fight the brightness of the sun, still bright in the midst of dusk, looking down at a hilly road that laid before us. I have to wonder how romantic we looked from an outsider’s perspective, looking at the hazy shape of a boy and a girl who seemed hopelessly in love. So ironic, so painfully ironic. To them the light must’ve made us look so warm and hopeful, when in reality, as you told me it wasn’t working, it could never work… the rays of sun, far from comforting, would give way to seeing, painful solar knives stabbing holes of the heat in my watering, bloodshot eyes.
“You know I still want to be friends more than anything… You know that, right?” You said. How I can remember you saying anything to me is a mystery in itself, everything felt like it was going to melt away in the orange sky.
“Why don’t you just say the truth and say you hate me, huh? Just butt out and stop lying in front of my damn face!” I shouted to you as I shot up from my seated position, not wanting to spend a moment more beside you after the heartbreak you were throwing in my face. “You could have just told me to disappear and never come back if that’s all you wanted to tell me, at least then I would’ve thought you were being honest!” I said, brushing off the hand that helped me as I went to run, but I felt you grabbing my arm to stop me.
“I won’t leave you,” You were firmly yelling as you moved your hand down my arm, grabbing at the hand that I held back for a brief moment, but, at that point everything felt so numb to me, the warmth you used to give me went cold as ice.
“You’re annoying” I barely remember telling you, moving away to walk ahead and never looking back, and I remember much more vividly, my inner thoughts saying that I “won’t even let you get another glance at my face as I leave you.” I’d never stooped to such a despicable level before… but maybe it all stemmed from the fact that I truly thought you could never stop loving me, and, in that delusional idealism I lived under, I still can’t help but wonder… Was it even the real you that I knew?
I don’t know for sure now, and I didn’t know then… but the difference was back then I didn’t care. To me, it was just as simple as “Okay, Lesson Learned, I’m never bothering with something like that again.” I was fooling myself naturally, denying how hurt I was, not realizing I was just making it worse by thinking ‘I don’t need to turn to the next page of my life myself, it just goes on,’ while I just sat about doing nothing, completely unaware that I was subconsciously just proclaiming ‘Nothing’s worth the effort anymore so I’ll just rot away here.’
God I was so stupid, so damn stupid… You had your reasons to break it off, but I didn’t even think about that, I was just thinking about my own feelings, and I never bothered to think about how much it was crushing you to admit what you probably had such a difficult time to say up front. But, of course, hindsight is 20/20… A time machine turning back to the day I made everything so terrible would be nice. I could slap past me in the face and tell him not to give up someone he cherished, not to be such a jerk to someone who was just speaking the truth. Maybe then you’d still be here… Maybe then I could have said all this to you and you’d have been there to listen. But no, years will fly by, and I’ll be in this gloom through it all, but I’m living, because I’m afraid of dying, and my stupid, stupid optimism will continue to be drawing out hopes of “maybe someday” though I know, beyond that idealistic bullshit that I can’t seem to get rid of, that I am never to see you again.
I don’t wonder why you disappeared, I don’t want to think about the details, every time I tried to before, it just made me feel like I wanna die. Even now, thinking about it like this it makes me feel that way. I just wanna die, but every time I feel this way, I end up just grabbing my own hand, the last one that touched yours, cursing it to hell for letting yours go, not staying to listen and understand why you were doing what you were doing as I sat there lamenting my own sorrows. But there’s not a thing I can do about any of that now, and councilors, therapists and family members have all tried to tell me this too. I just have to accept that I’m still here and you’re probably not, so, might as well live it up while I’m still alive and I’m breathing. I can’t even write that out without cringing. So damn selfish… what, so, you’re gone, so, life goes on? How can they expect me to be so passive to this? It’s not possible, yet, in this midsummer dream I feel I’m stuck in every night, maybe I’ll eventually see the younger me that I was playing the part of, and understand, once more, that happy-go-lucky loser with the greatest girlfriend in the world, before you flew free and I no longer kept you down… I know, I’m manipulating things, making myself out to be some oppressive force that was keeping you from doing anything, as if I was actually truly hurting you by being a part of your life like that when I wasn’t. You wouldn’t have smiled so genuinely to me so often if I was, back in the days where I had hidden myself in the haze of my positivity. But clearly there was something wrong with me all along since I had no idea I was slowly running ablaze with those thoughts, and slowly hurting myself, storing away burning red thoughts of anger and disdain in my brain, just waiting for a moment like our last to have it all come out at once.
I’m gonna be 18 years old soon. A boy no longer. I need to start thinking like an adult before then, understand I’m living in reality, that it’s a waste of time to think of another girl ever showing up in my life and thinking of me the same way you did. It’s pointless to wait for her to fall from somewhere, especially when, every time I try to talk to anyone new at all, I just end up remembering the figures, the people I’d come to know and care for, blurring in the Summer in a single heartbeat, disappearing all at once all over again, leaving me alone, leaving me without any desire to befriend anyone else if they’re just going to leave eventually too. Just this year, first day of our second year of high school, I was shading my eyes to fight the sun in the desert that was the school grounds. Always when the sun is so annoyingly bright this stuff seems to happen, huh? I firmly remember a friendly classmate of mine, had a cute little clover pin on her shirt that I couldn’t help but notice as it glimmered in the light. She gave me a smile from ear to ear, but every time someone gives me such a cheerful sort of look, it resounds in my head, the same corrupted question… “Why don’t we play a game where I tear out your heart just like before?” And it’s just another round of ignoring the cheery face as you go ‘round my stream of consciousness for another lap of guilt. I need to get out of the house… Go for a drive… maybe I’ll finally find you. You’ve been gone for so long, you’re probably so scared… I’ll find you, and then I can finally say I’m sorry… Mom won’t mind if I take the van out for a bit, especially for a cause like this.
