“Shoot me with your raygun, full of holes so the daylight hits what’s dark”

It happened today, the inevitability I knew was coming, but didn’t want to accept. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Which was good. I couldn’t take this if I was open, but as it is, I’m fine. Buried my emotions so deep, even she can’t see them.

And now I’m left asking myself the same questions she’s asking herself. Where do I go from here? I have closure on all my hopes. And they were empty. But of course they always are. I’ve thrown away that bar of goddamn Irish Springs; I’ve always fucking hated scented soap. Of course I have to get over her now, and the separation isn’t for me, it’s for her. Not that I don’t understand, I just don’t approve. But hey, I’m not supposed to.

5th business is what she called me. I hate being labeled, restricted put inside a box, but in this case it seems fairly accurate. Still hate it, of course… and she asked me not to write about her. Which is funny, cause she knows what happens when one writes. Funny and slightly upsetting. I’m just so fucking tired of being other people’s fifth business. I didn’t heal her, and still, fifth fucking business. I… I want to get over her, other than just suppression. I want to be her friend, I like being her friend I just don’t see any other way to do this. Buddhism did get it right. You get no positive karma for doing good things, nothing is owed to you, nothing. Fuck, haven’t I done enough, bared enough, been enough to get myself somewhere fucking decent?

And the answer is no, I have to do that all by myself. So running, reading and working out will be my summer. It’s not loving, but I’ll take what I can get. After all, beggars can’t be choosers right?