i wanted

i.

i remember watching you with her. she was my best friend. except not. we were close. we told each other everything. but... it just wasn't pure best-friendship. i remember watching her with you. you were my best friend. and you still are.

i remember watching you two together, and then the feelings started.

ii.

a week goes by, and you tell me of a dirty night with her. spent on your bed, as she spent the night at your house for a concert. you tell me that it wasn't great, but was good. you tell me you're still a virgin, and that tells me all i need to know.

that told me more than i wanted to hear.

i cried myself to sleep that day, and turned off my cellphone. after giving it to my brother, i told him to hide in my room somewhere, anywhere. just so that i couldn't find it easily.

my windows were locked and my lights were out. only one time was enough for you to give up knocking on my windows, late at night. only one time was enough for you.

iii.

another week, and you call me. it's two in the morning, and they're making out on your bed. he's your best friend; she's your girlfriend. i can hear the noises through the phone, and i ask you if you and her were still together, now. you said i don't know.

half of me loses respect for you - for being dependent. and too forgiving.

the other half feels bad for you and contempt for her. the first words i think of are slut, bitch, and whore. this side of me takes my better judgement and i ask you if you wanted to come over to my house. just to chill, and talk, and get away from them.

it's only ten minutes before my cellphone is ringing and we're stationed on my front porch. i ache for a drag, because of the stress your love life gives me. but you're standing right there, and i don't want you to leave. and i don't want to make your day any worse, by smoking.

so i don't.

part of you notices that i was anxious. agitated. bitter. restless. you lean in, i turn away, and you decide it's time for you to leave.

despite my pity, i agree. an eye for an eye makes the world go 'round, Timmy, it only makes things hurt worse.

iv.

the next time i see you, you grab a cigarette from my mouth, and stomp it out with your heel. that shit's bad for you. then you walk to your car, without another word.

the screech of your tires echo in my ears.

v.

finally, two weeks later... we broke up. why? because she doesn't like me anymore. you're just now figuring that out? no, it's just now sinking in. dumbass. i told you. you cunt. i don't care if you did. i do. i was right. i told you - you should have listened. go to hell. gladly. fuck you.

later that night, while we're still on the couch, talking, you tell me some things i never cared enough to know.

i'm surprised.

(i needed you, too)

vi.

we get into an argument, that leads to a spilling of emotions from the both of us. you vent your frustration of my indifference and selfishness and refusal to interfere in people's lives. i yell at you for your dependency - tell you that you shouldn't let your heart win over your head - either of them. you admit to things i never should have known.

all your words - they get to me, but i don't think you realise it.

the night ends with, how can you be so blind to one thing but so all-knowing about everything else? and i really fucking wish you would get it. but you're not me. so you'll probably never understand.

i'm convinced that i did something very very wrong.

vii.

you apologize the next day, and we work things out - sounding upset, but... something else. and i finally understand why i didn't recognize the number on the caller id.

if you need me, you know i'll be there.

famous last words.

viii.

your funeral is filled with people i've never met, and with people i can't stand to look at. but i'm glad. because now, you know everyone cares about you.

good bye.

i loved you, too.

and i needed
you

how he died will be left unsaid because i want to keep his name and history private.
RIP.