A Story of a Sad Little Boy

chapter 25: seen of the stars

Adrenaline filled evenings of running around on stage with a performance I'm proud of and kind people. The cloud of excitement and hormones from doing what I love. Not being able to check my phone because of costume changes and scenes of death, tragedy and excitement. The night ends like the others. With the hope that the audience likes it and the people we care about loved it. Changed out of costumes, sweaty and tired. Not the tired that can be helped with sleep or at least at that moment. Changed and greeting the people who came. Cleaning up and unrecognizing smiles.

No one knows who I am or what I am apart of. No one cares about the small guys unrecognizable without the costume, the small guys who are the unspoken and unseen from the all mightys and the evil.

Looking around I see friends who witness the same unknowing smiles and glances. They greet old friends, new friends, lovers and partners. I see none of that. I see parents who come because it's more convient for them. I see no smiles and hugs. I see the glances of people who are only here because they have to.

I commit to the journey home. Yet to check my phone. I put my earbuds in and lookout. The stars speak tales of old story's and fabels. You've always loved stars. If only I was a star.  Alone in my thoughts. The melancholy music of a mediocre medium sized metropolis hums with life. Lights and people. A girl writing poems on a typewriter, drunken fools drinking their problems away, hippies and hipsters alike sharing a drink.

I look around. Happy faces and friends. Nothing compared to what happens in the daylight. The soft songs play mixing with the different street musicians playing there own ballads for life to forget.

I haven't checked my phone yet. The silence of my thoughts and the darkness of the car make the thoughts feel sacred. 

The stars and moon look almost new after seeing them with you.

I finish my journey as I collapse on my bed processing the thoughts soon to be forgotten.

I pick up my phone. The music pauses and the world seems to stop. The question still rattles around. Am I just emotionally deprived or have you made me feel?  No one knows. There is no notifications or messages. That's nothing new. School ends and the people you thought cared are either busy or blowing you off. Nothing but read messages. Nothing new. There's something new. It seems familiar but new. Its a message.... From you. It's the first time in awhile. It says nothing. It was just my hopes blinding the truth. The message was from me. A few days prior. It marks "read". This is nothing new.

The people complain about waiting have nothing on me. Always waiting and being patient. Panicked patience but patience none the less.

Days pass. The route the same, the glances and smiles the same, the people different. The text stops reading read but now reads a new message. Blowing up out of spite or anger. Out of love or hate. Out of frustration or fear. No one knows. I blow up and get shunned but when you do it it's different.

The same story slightly different. Yours has more backstory and experience. Mine has more detail and hope. I have learned to mostly control my blow ups. You have yet to learn. We were taught to protect our pride. I was also taught to apologize when done wrong and that pride isn't everything.

The messages could be toxic but we will never know. Left on read all day most days and once we talk you always that we will talk later.

When is later. Later is after at least 2 messages are left on read and many messages are deleted because one way conversations are mostly what happens. Later is after you've been gone and I've made the time yet I'm only here for convience. That's how it always works.

Shit happens and talking is scary. Friendships can be broken but I've always stayed true. But how true can someone be when all they ever get in response is lies. The screams and yelling of old tormented always comes back when you tell. I guess that divorce did give some trama to 5 year old me.

You said things that made me forget that other feelings exist. Were they lies?

Everything is okay when it's in front of you. When you zoom out it's when you see what the real problem is. Yet I ignore them like you and everyone else I've ever called a friend has done.

This isn't a perfect love story. It's real life that doesn't exist. Maybe this wasn't a love story. Love at first sight is a myth, I guess so is love. There is only lust and genuine feelings that don't last. If love is real than it can't be found in a person. The " Perfect person " Doesn't exist. They never will.

If everyone is meant for someone or something than I must have been a mistake or there must have been a mess up.

I am not scary or intimidating but I can hold my own. I have fears like the scary. I fear of what will happen to our friendship and what will happen to you if I said my thoughts. Your secrets are scarier than anything anyone could do. If my mind is dark than yours is a void very few see.

Communication is nothing without comprehension.

I'm still learning. I stop going on social media because seeing you makes me miss what used to be. I stopped looking at astrology because I always saw your sign. The myers briggs types have been my substitute of astrology and a unhealthy amount of YouTube my substitute for the social media's that your on. Romantic memes are erased and replaced with depressing stuff and mental health things. Pictures of us are still there but they were never there in the first place. I don't learn anymore I just ignore until the nights where nothing happens. That spot in time was always for you. That spot is now reminiscing on what used to be. The tired words of anger and kindness.

I've lost hours of sleep because of what we were and because of what we are. I never go to sleep happy anymore. I just sleep to ignore what's in front of me or I don't sleep because of missing another human. Sleep cause to be sane but I always get yelled at for being grumpy or speaking my mind but tahst just because without sleep the filter leaves and gets replaced with unrational thinking and random rampages.

This story can't die until we do. Our liking is not rare. It's a overuse, rushed friendship.

THIS IS NOT ABOUT ANYONE SPECIFICALLY. ID YOU THINK IT'S ABOUT YOU, YOU ARE WRONG.

COOL I'M BACK. I'VE BEEN BUSY DOING NOTHING. THANK YOU FOR READING! IF YOU LIKED IT PLEASE VOTE AND SHARE. THANKS- The author of this hellhole of a book.

Also yes the picture is a quote from good omens with drawings of Aziraphale and Crowley