![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
May. 28th, 2003
Love you, miss you...who are you?
May. 28th, 2003 05:15 pm[reconstructed from what LJ ate]
So I'm supposed to be meeting my friends at the blood bank, Michael and Jonni and Will. And I don't really want to go.
We don't talk anymore. Haven't in a while. I know M and J are busy and they're moving, but it's not as if we have forever here. But J is busy chasing the kids around, and Michael seems to only want to bully me into taking Camarilla club offices that I don't want. Again.
Our games don't happen, or they happen and no one tells me about them, which ammounts to the same thing as far as I'm concerned. They don't call, they don't email, and I, either because I'm petulant and pissed off, or just because I'm tired, don't initiate contact. I think it's because I'm pissed, though. And I am. I tried not to be, since they're leaving for Arizona in ten days, but what the hell? Why not? Makes no difference anyway.
I wanted to have a party, one last get-together before they go. But they don't want a party. M wants to go see a movie or something. And I- Sigh. I used to go see movies with my dad, and other people I didn't really want to deal with. You sit in the dark for two hours, don't speak, and when you leave you have the movie to talk about; impersonal, requiring no real person-to-person contact.
I don't want my relationship with my friends to be like this. But it is becoming this, whatever I want. It frustrates me. It makes me want to scream, bash my head against the walls- but none of that would change anything.
In a way I am acting as if they're already gone. Hard not to, when they seem to have forgotten that I exist.
I was so happy for a while there- I had friends I saw face to face, friends who stood by me when others stabbed me in the back. Friends who, when made to chose between those others and me, chose me, when all the times before that that had happened to me, almost always people had run quickly as they could away from me. But now I can only wonder where it's gone, the good times we used to have. The happiness.
And I tried- I tried so hard to hang on, to not be angry and to not be sad. But it's not doing any good holding the anger off, they don't speak to me anymore anyway. When I see them tonight I know what they'll say- been busy, you should have called...you missed a great game. I have never understood the game schedule and now I suppose that I never will.
I don't want to go, but I will. I'll go not because I can donate blood; I can't. I think I've become anemic again. They told me to take iron pills, gave me lists of really weird stuff to eat, pushed the raisens and the orange juice... and my iron levels go down. So whatever. I give up. But I'm going because it's too much to explain why I wouldn't want to. They never call, but that they would notice, remark on somehow, sometime. And it's too much to explain why I can't face them, why I'd rather not. Going is easier. Putting on the false fronts at which I've become so good, is easier.
My friends have become strangers. It's no wonder I already feel as if they're a hundred miles away.
So I'm supposed to be meeting my friends at the blood bank, Michael and Jonni and Will. And I don't really want to go.
We don't talk anymore. Haven't in a while. I know M and J are busy and they're moving, but it's not as if we have forever here. But J is busy chasing the kids around, and Michael seems to only want to bully me into taking Camarilla club offices that I don't want. Again.
Our games don't happen, or they happen and no one tells me about them, which ammounts to the same thing as far as I'm concerned. They don't call, they don't email, and I, either because I'm petulant and pissed off, or just because I'm tired, don't initiate contact. I think it's because I'm pissed, though. And I am. I tried not to be, since they're leaving for Arizona in ten days, but what the hell? Why not? Makes no difference anyway.
I wanted to have a party, one last get-together before they go. But they don't want a party. M wants to go see a movie or something. And I- Sigh. I used to go see movies with my dad, and other people I didn't really want to deal with. You sit in the dark for two hours, don't speak, and when you leave you have the movie to talk about; impersonal, requiring no real person-to-person contact.
I don't want my relationship with my friends to be like this. But it is becoming this, whatever I want. It frustrates me. It makes me want to scream, bash my head against the walls- but none of that would change anything.
In a way I am acting as if they're already gone. Hard not to, when they seem to have forgotten that I exist.
I was so happy for a while there- I had friends I saw face to face, friends who stood by me when others stabbed me in the back. Friends who, when made to chose between those others and me, chose me, when all the times before that that had happened to me, almost always people had run quickly as they could away from me. But now I can only wonder where it's gone, the good times we used to have. The happiness.
And I tried- I tried so hard to hang on, to not be angry and to not be sad. But it's not doing any good holding the anger off, they don't speak to me anymore anyway. When I see them tonight I know what they'll say- been busy, you should have called...you missed a great game. I have never understood the game schedule and now I suppose that I never will.
I don't want to go, but I will. I'll go not because I can donate blood; I can't. I think I've become anemic again. They told me to take iron pills, gave me lists of really weird stuff to eat, pushed the raisens and the orange juice... and my iron levels go down. So whatever. I give up. But I'm going because it's too much to explain why I wouldn't want to. They never call, but that they would notice, remark on somehow, sometime. And it's too much to explain why I can't face them, why I'd rather not. Going is easier. Putting on the false fronts at which I've become so good, is easier.
My friends have become strangers. It's no wonder I already feel as if they're a hundred miles away.
frustration
May. 28th, 2003 11:51 pmAll of that, and for nothing. Michael was there and gone before I got there, and I don't know that Will showed up at all. So I sat in the canteen by myself- that's always fun- waiting for Mom to finish donating, telling myself that I wasn't going to cry in public. I don't know if I'll ever see them again. And I hate that.
I think I hate the fact that I care, too. Because I'm trying to be hard, you know- trying to be tough. Like it doesn't hurt.
They said 6:30. I'm sure they said 6:30. And it was barely even 6:15 when we got there. Woman at the front desk said M was gone, that he'd hung around for a bit and left.
I felt stupid, trying to remember why I was there.
I think I hate the fact that I care, too. Because I'm trying to be hard, you know- trying to be tough. Like it doesn't hurt.
They said 6:30. I'm sure they said 6:30. And it was barely even 6:15 when we got there. Woman at the front desk said M was gone, that he'd hung around for a bit and left.
I felt stupid, trying to remember why I was there.