Not Him Anymore

In New York, you gotta keep up. You slow down, you'll get run over, most likely by a yellow cab.

Every time I go to him house, it's cold out, and then I come in to be welcomed by his warmth: my old friend. But today, he wasn't even waiting for me.

I was used to other people being there, but that never stopped us before. There was only one person tonight, but somehow that changed everything. She's known him for only two years, and I've known him all my life. But I live in a separate burrow, a different house, another world. She lived right upstairs. I felt all alone in his world, unwanted. 

Usually when it was time to leave, I never wanted to go, I belonged. But this evening, I didn't even try to stop myself from leaving. I didn't hide under the table or go behind the couch. I looked out their wide window and stared at their view.

In the past, I always thought I was lucky to be able to see a view like this when I came. But when I looked now, it was dull, it was, lonesome. I felt pathetic. I was sad. I know that's a boring word to use, that there are better ones to express myself. Like depressed, unhappy, broken, bitter, distressed, heartsick and heavy, sorrowful; but I didn't feel like expressing myself with those words. They're just ways to show that I KNOW STUFF! I'm not in the mood to sound smart right now. Sad meant all of those things at once, it's good enough for me.

I wanted my friend back. It's okay when people change, I just didn't want it to be him. But I guess you can't always get what you want.

I gave parts of myself to him without even noticing it. He was like a burglar and I let him take all the jewels without even sounding the alarm. Tonight I was the person that appeared fresh and happy, no matter what was going on inside my heart and behind those bathroom doors. 

He apologized for "everything". What the heck does that even mean?!

I said it was okay, but of course it wasn't. How could he ever know?Going back into his bedroom would turn him into a memory, not a person and he wasn't my person anymore.

So tonight, when I left and stepped out to the cold air, expecting to be smacked by a harsh wind, I didn't feel anything. I didn't find it cold at all. People remember things the way they want to remember them instead of the way it was, because it was never just one way. I know this sounds cheesy as all hell but, you made a promise to never forget me, and I was too naive to realize that people make promises all the time that they can't keep. Or won't keep. I was just hoping you weren't the kind of person that would do that. Not to me.

I walked slowly tonight. No one was out; it was late, but somehow I was still almost run over. By a stinking, yellow cab.