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Forgotten Memories
I looked to the girl in anger. Everything about her pissed me off, angered me to no end. The way she spoke, the way she wrote, how she acted, how she replied. The mere way she thought tossed me over the edge. It enraged me or maybe it wasn’t me at all that she angered so much.
This girl that I so deeply resented was my best friend and my sister of sorts. We used to get along so well, but somewhere along the path things changed. Something snapped inside me. Ever since then, I can’t hold it back. The anger, the hate, the furious that filled me the moment I thought of her. All I had to do was see her name upon my screen and I would just about be thrown into a fit of rage.
Still, at the same time I missed talking to her. She didn’t have time for me though. She rarely even signed on anymore. It didn’t matter, it was better this way. I couldn’t hurt her if we didn’t speak and the less she signed on the less of a chance that I would end up hurt.
I still missed her though and nothing in the world could change that. I had gotten used to her not being here any longer though. I would sit here alone in my empty room, once in a while a friend would sign on, but not so much anymore.
As much as the thought brought me dread I was beginning to wonder if somehow I scared them all away. Maybe I offended them with something I said or maybe it was my hot-headedness that drove them off. I wanted to say they were just busy or grounded but no matter how many times I said it I never actually believed it myself. I wanted to believe it, and I tried to, but it never quite worked out that way. I always somehow believed that their absence was my fault when I knew very well that it wasn’t.
Nothing made me feel any better though. No matter what I said or tried to convince myself nothing helped. Nothing eased away the worry and the fear of being alone, now with her gone though it was worse. I could tell her anything, anything at all and we could just sit and talk for hours about this kind of stuff. I could trust her with everything I had. There were no secrets to be kept.
Sure, she had her flaws, and I had mine. We were human and I didn’t mind. I guess though that that was a lie. Something inside me hated her flaws, some of which weren’t even flaws but still I hated them. I hated her, or something inside me did.
There was no way to explain or understand it but it was there. I felt it every time we spoke. I wanted to fight and snapped and –
I wanted it to end. I wanted all of it to stop. I didn’t want us to fight anymore. I didn’t want to upset her anymore. So one day when she messaged me I told her that if she ever messaged me or spoke to me again, I would call the cops. I didn’t mean it, but I knew full well that she would stop. It would make her stop.
I knew myself well enough too. I knew that I would never message her, because that would be like admitting I was wrong and that I was sorry. My pride, my stupid pride wouldn’t allow me that. So I knew I would never message her.
Still I asked our common friends how she was. If she was doing well in school, what she did over her summer vacation. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. I didn’t want her to know or to think of me. I wanted to fade out of her life. It would be best that way.
This way we couldn’t fight anymore. This way she couldn’t get upset over me anymore. Sure, she may have missed me and maybe she still does, but she’ll get over it in time. We all get over things with time. We move on, we meet new people, good things happen, and bad things too, but we go forward and in time the memories of our past fade away.
As long as we don’t talk, this process will take place and one day she’ll see my screenname or my picture and she’ll think I’m familiar but she won’t be able to place me. Sure, she’ll probably try to figure out how she knew me, but all our conversations are gone all our memories of each other have faded and there is nothing left to remind her. That’s how I want this war to end, with forgotten memories.
