"Her"

Strength

"I don't know what's going to happen now. I don't think she's over her ex. Not to mention the fact that she doesn't want to be alone with me."

She's scared. That's obvious.

"I wouldn't call that obvious. At first I thought she was just keeping me around. Using me I guess. I wish I knew where this chick was coming from. I just don't like wasting my time with people, while they dance around how they feel for me."

So what are you going to do?

"I'm going to step my game up. Either she's going to be intimidated by me and I'm going to lose her, or she'll be impressed and let me know what's going on with her."

That's one hell of a risk. Maybe you should take things slow. Cool down.

"I won't. I refuse to. I want to know whether she's playing games or not. And I have a feeling she is. She does far too much teasing for my taste. She's playing me." I sigh and rub my hair. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't so good at reading people. That I could just let go and get screwed over and just enjoy the ride. But I can't do that. Not anymore."

Was it worth to lose your friends?

"Who can say? My friends haven't exactly been transparent enough for my taste anyway. They play a lot of games. Still. After all these years. They talk and talk and they know absolutely nothing. I may be hot-natured, but I can't stand hot air. And I can't stand people who play at being progressive."

They'll call you.

"No. They won't. It's done. After all these years, it's officially over."

Are you giving up on them?

"I'm giving up on trying to be something I'm not. Which is swallowing my feelings every time they bash someone out of deep-seated bigotry. I hate bigots more than I love them. And I do love them. I love them a lot. But I've reached my limit. I'm done."

It takes a certain amount of strength to do what you're doing now. And a certain amount of pain tolerance to. This is breaking your heart.

"It hurts like hell. Yes. But my heart isn't anywhere near broken. You haven't seen break down and cry not once since we stopped talking, have you?"

No, I haven't seen you cry. But do not ignore your pain. If it's there, allow yourself to feel it.

"I have, and I'm over it. It's strange. So very strange."

You're lying. Lie to everyone else but me. Otherwise, your just wasting your time.

"All right. I'm not over it. I don't see how some people feel no remorse for screwing other people over, and treating them like crap if they're different. They think they can keep doing it until you decide not to take it anymore."

And that hurts most of all, doesn't it? The fact they all of them were so willing to sweep what they did under the rug, like you weren't even an adult. Like you were a small child.

"I dislike them even more for that. It was insulting. And for that reason, I'm not speaking to them anymore."

She sighs, shaking her head at me. You are a brave one.

"Especially when I'm not trying to be, right?" I give her sad chuckle, and She nods her head at me. There's no celebration, no happiness in my heart over my decision. I feel like I've been attending a funeral. The sadness sits in my esophagus and drifts from my stomach to my belly like an inwardly orbiting planet.

I would offer you comfort, but you need more than my words. Perhaps time will give you what you need.

I smile at her, feeling tears in my eyes in spite of myself. "Thanks any way."