Today, my mother came home early. I looked her in the eye, but all she saw was the bruise on my face, still dark and purple. She said absolutely nothing to me, just stormed into her room, and locked the door. But I heard her sobbing. It wasn't one of those faint, silent cries. She was hysterically crying, and her uneasy breathing made me feel sick. I wanted nothing more than to leave. Drive somewhere, and not worry about coming home. But I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want to see anyone, but you. I called you once, and you didn't answer. For some reason, I knew you weren't going to. Immediately after this, I felt really lonely. The only person I have ever trusted or have ever turned to isn't as "there" for me anymore. I have to get that through my head. Still, it's so strange not knowing how you are or what you're doing. Had this been two months ago, I would've excitedly texted you about the illustrations I came across that featured alien sex. I would have thoroughly lectured you about the history of dildos and vibrators which I learned about in Anthropology of Sex. I would have shown you preliminary sketches for new painting ideas. Now, every time I see something that reminds me of you, I refrain from telling you about it. Mainly because I never get a response. I figure you're busy with work. Or out with your new girlfriend or family. Or maybe you simply just don't want to talk to me anymore. So when you called me back today, I was sincerely happy about it. I felt like finally, the stars were fearlessly shining again. But the moment I accepted the call, it was uncomfortably quiet, with the conversation ending with you saying "I'll talk to you... when I talk to you". The second I hung up, I cried so much, my nose started running and my eyes swelled up. Tonight, I feel like we've become strangers. We were once the closest of friends who could talk about nothing for hours on end, but now, we have absolutely nothing to say to each other.
Nonetheless, I do miss talking to you. I really miss telling you about all the stupid shit that happens during the day. Maybe that's why I write on this so much more lately. Because maybe you still read this when you want to know about what's going on with me. I secretly hope you do. And if you are, please come back.
"I promise all I will echo back is
'Beauty, beauty, you have always been beauty.'"
mkp.
