it's been a while since i last talked to you. it's been a while since i wrote anything worth anyone's attention. since you've been gone, i seem to have lost my voice, lost the ability to share what i have inside of me, lost myself.
so i'm not too sure what i'm doing, writing this. i've been avoiding it for a long time, for months. i guess i thought avoiding this would make things better somehow...i guess i was hoping i'd never have to write this. i've done this so many times already...it's not like anyone needs to read any more of my goodbyes. it's not like anyone really cares.
that is what you did to me. you made believe in the things i'd stopped believing in. you made me believe that someone cared, that someone wanted to listen, that i was someone important and special enough to have whatever happiness i'd found. everything i'd ever wished for, every star, every prayer--they were all said for you. and i just couldn't imagine that i'd found you, but then--well, we've all got to face that cold reality someday, right? we have to stare it in the face and laugh because the tears just won't come this time. because i was wrong...terribly wrong, yet again.
i can't say you never cared or never listened or didn't think i was important enough to have my happiness. i can't say it because it'll hurt me too much...and at this stage, i'd rather avoid the pain. i think i have enough as it is. i'll believe my delusions, if they'll keep me sane.
i can say, though, that what i miss the most is the sound of your voice...less than that even. just the knowledge that you're on the other end of the phone line. i miss talking to you more than anything i've ever missed in my entire life...how funny is that? it's 1 am and i'm sitting here, hoping my phone will ring and that it'll be you. how sad is that? of course you won't call...i don't expect you to. i'm not someone to be missed...i've been forgotten so many times already; i can't imagine you would remember.
the minutes pass slowly, and i find that staying awake does me no good. you'd think i'd have stopped crying over this by now, you'd think there couldn't possibly be any more tears...but there are. with every breath, there's a another image of you in my mind, and another set of tears.
there is a point to this: my hopes. my hope that this will make it a bit easier with each passing day to forget you; my hope that i'll find it again, that you weren't the last; my hope that i'll survive and not be as jaded as i am right now; my hope that i'll be happy one day.
goodbye.
