Wednesday, July 25, 2007

The River

Hey, listen, that one time when we were down by the river, and you were sad and drunk because of your mom, I really thought we should’ve talked about it more. I could see something was bugging you, and you wanted to scream it to the world but you couldn’t, because it hurt so much to get it through your throat. Sure, you gave me half the story about why you were sad, but I could see that wasn’t all there was to it. I think you thought I didn’t really “get” you that day.

I just want you to know that I did. And, I knew anyway. I just acted the way I did because I was hurting too. I’m really sorry, seriously, for letting you think I didn’t know for so long.

1 comment:

calm interlude said...

This is me.
This is me talking to me.
When all i have is me.
But i was always waiting for someone to tell something like this to me.
To have someone know me as much as i knew myself.
I ignored me.
Thinking i'll be happy with others.
Now i have other people to talk to. but they never tell me this.
they keep on disappointing me.
and i regret ever ignoring my own voice.