I told you we should try this more often.
Seeing each other. Trying to be friends again.
You agreed.
That was the last time we ever saw each other.
Our story ended, the final pages left blank, on that August afternoon.

I told you that we would always be friends.
That we could call on each other whenever we needed to.
You agreed.
I can't remember the last time we communicated.
But if these poems count for anything, then I guess I do talk to you.
And if you read them, then maybe perhaps you actually do listen.

I told myself to forget about you.
Delete you from my memory.
Like a picture that didn't come out too well.
But I couldn't bring myself to do a permanent delete.
So, even though you were buried away, hidden almost, I still always knew where you were.
You can't beat me at this game of "Hide && Seek."

I told myself to press the reset button.
But no matter how many times I start over.
I always end up getting stuck on the same level.
Can't seem to win at this game.
Maybe I need to use a cheat code, like you did, in order to win.

I told you that we would never separate.
Like the roots of a tree.
Turns out, we were more like the leaves and branches.
One season we’re perfectly attached to each other.
But when the next season arrived you began to slowly loosen yourself from me.
And then, like a leaf around winter time, you fell from the tree.
Leaving me empty, cold, and alone, like a branch in December.

I told you that I wanted you out of my life.
But you’re like a sickness.
No. Worse. You’re an untreatable sickness.
No matter how hard I try to search for a vaccination, I can never seem to find a cure.
I guess I have to live with the fact that you’ll always be a part of me.



I told myself that this isn’t fair to her.
But the obstacle of completely forgetting you is too giant for me to handle.
The hurdle is too high for me to jump over.
So I hide under it instead.
This problem shades me from my current relationship’s bright future.
And as a result, my love for her lives in the shadow of my previous love for you.

I told myself it was for the better when you deleted your Facebook account and changed your screename.
I could no longer read your statuses or your away messages.
But then I found your Twitter account.
And although I don’t follow you, I consider myself a stalker.
I must confess that I check up on you occasionally.
I can’t deny or conceal the fact that I still genuinely care about your well being.

I told you that we’d never have the bond that we once had.
I still believe this.
The idea of being in a relationship with you died a long time ago.
But I didn’t know that it would come at the expense of completely losing you.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I miss your friendship.
After all, we were friends since the fourth grade.

I told you a lot of things.
But I never told you goodbye.
I think that’s why you still haunt me.
There’s still stuff that I need to get off my chest.
And there’s still an item of mine in your possession that I want back.
You carry the key to my emotional freedom.
It’s as if I’m your prisoner.
My inability to get over you keeps me locked up in this God forsaken cycle.
My NASCAR-like mind constantly racing as my thoughts circle and circle.
I told myself that one day I’ll eventually reach the finish line.
In fact, I can see my girl cheering for me as I approach the end.
Her love for me guides me through my victory lap.
As I cross the line, I break free from the emotional jail cell that you have placed me in.
And I run away into her arms because, in my opinion, they are the safest place.
No one can find me there.
Or so I thought.
I forgot that you have a permanent residence inside my head.
You may leave to travel for a few weeks, but you always end up coming back.
It’s like I can’t function without thinking about you from time to time.
One day you and I will meet again.
And when that day comes, we’ll settle our differences, and it’ll all be over.
I told you I’d forget all about you.
And I told myself the same thing too.