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fictionaldear christopher,
when i told someone you IM'd me this morning, the first thing they asked was, "Is he still a jerk?"
i can't really answer that question. it's hard to tell things about radical personality shifts (or lack thereof) from a few minutes of small talk in an instant message once a year. i keep wanting to ask you what you're *really* thinking.
but i won't.
you remembered my boyfriend's name. i'm impressed. i certainly didn't remember your girlfriend's. you say things like you still know me, like you think about me sometimes. it's years later now, and you can still tell what i'm feeling on the other end of a trivial conversation and you can't even hear my voice. you say you've got your own apartment now, in manhattan. you want me to come visit you so i can see it. you'll even play me some songs, you say. i'm sorry, but i don't think so. i remember what happens after you're done playing, and i don't think we need to go back there.
it's strange, chris, how i remember/and don't remember everything. the way you smell, the way your bones are put together. the way you were the only one who could make me feel beautiful, once upon a time. i remember nights when you'd call me up, just to make sure i was still breathing, and then hang up. i also remember how you strung me along, broke me, and then put me back together just to break me again. i remember how you made me feel bruised, and worn, and older than dirt. but it feels like it happened to a different girl. and i guess maybe it did.
i never told anyone the things you said to me in the dark late nights/early mornings.
i kept all your secrets. they always surprised me, that you had secrets, i mean.
it was always a shock to find out that you weren't as shallow as i thought whenever we weren't talking. or kissing. or playing music.
it's strange how i hear from you, and my stomach goes all wavery, just like it used to.
even the memory of infatuation can grip me like nausea, i suppose.
i'm glad you're well and happy.
i'll probably even see you again someday. and hopefully i'll do a brilliant job of not showing that you still mean something to me
and probably always will.
love,
kali
when i told someone you IM'd me this morning, the first thing they asked was, "Is he still a jerk?"
i can't really answer that question. it's hard to tell things about radical personality shifts (or lack thereof) from a few minutes of small talk in an instant message once a year. i keep wanting to ask you what you're *really* thinking.
but i won't.
you remembered my boyfriend's name. i'm impressed. i certainly didn't remember your girlfriend's. you say things like you still know me, like you think about me sometimes. it's years later now, and you can still tell what i'm feeling on the other end of a trivial conversation and you can't even hear my voice. you say you've got your own apartment now, in manhattan. you want me to come visit you so i can see it. you'll even play me some songs, you say. i'm sorry, but i don't think so. i remember what happens after you're done playing, and i don't think we need to go back there.
it's strange, chris, how i remember/and don't remember everything. the way you smell, the way your bones are put together. the way you were the only one who could make me feel beautiful, once upon a time. i remember nights when you'd call me up, just to make sure i was still breathing, and then hang up. i also remember how you strung me along, broke me, and then put me back together just to break me again. i remember how you made me feel bruised, and worn, and older than dirt. but it feels like it happened to a different girl. and i guess maybe it did.
i never told anyone the things you said to me in the dark late nights/early mornings.
i kept all your secrets. they always surprised me, that you had secrets, i mean.
it was always a shock to find out that you weren't as shallow as i thought whenever we weren't talking. or kissing. or playing music.
it's strange how i hear from you, and my stomach goes all wavery, just like it used to.
even the memory of infatuation can grip me like nausea, i suppose.
i'm glad you're well and happy.
i'll probably even see you again someday. and hopefully i'll do a brilliant job of not showing that you still mean something to me
and probably always will.
love,
kali
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-15 08:47 am (UTC)*hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-15 05:04 pm (UTC)sometimes you have to wonder how many chapters of other people's lives are meticulously thought about and never expressed...
that letter touched me so much that i sent it to my best friend and we sat there analyzing it. analyzing really isn't even the right word --
PriYaNka712 (8:02:01 PM): that is a great letter
PriYaNka712 (8:02:15 PM): i dont even know the girl and i got into it
sporked aorta (8:02:19 PM): me too
PriYaNka712 (8:02:43 PM): i also remember how you strung me along, broke me, and then put me back together just to break me again. i remember how you made me feel bruised, and worn, and older than dirt. but it feels like it happened to a different girl. and i guess maybe it did.
PriYaNka712 (8:03:16 PM): i like this part:
PriYaNka712 (8:03:17 PM): it's strange how i hear from you, and my stomach goes all wavery, just like it used to.
even the memory of infatuation can grip me like nausea, i suppose.
sporked aorta (8:03:37 PM): i'll probably even see you again someday. and hopefully i'll do a brilliant job of not showing that you still mean something to me
and probably always will.
sporked aorta (8:03:41 PM): :(
sporked aorta (8:03:45 PM): hehe
PriYaNka712 (8:03:57 PM): hehe i want to like save that letter
PriYaNka712 (8:04:09 PM): its so sad
sporked aorta (8:09:00 PM): it's crazy how random people feel all the same things and are able to express them ten times better
sporked aorta (8:09:30 PM): like who really knows what you are thinking?
PriYaNka712 (8:10:23 PM): i know.... but when u read it
PriYaNka712 (8:10:27 PM): its like thats what i was thinking
-- either way, i hope you are feeling okay. knowing that you did survive and recover from the blow
dear faerie-god(dess)mother?
Date: 2002-05-27 09:13 am (UTC)*hugs*