There's no real reason why I blatantly stole the title of this from a Switchfoot song, besides for the fact that that's the one that supposedly describes my life (I've never heard it), and it's a catchy little title. Sums up what this is all about.
People live. People love. Is there a why to it all? Why are we here? Why do we live? Why do we love? Why do we love someone so deeply, and then tear it all away in the blink of an eye? Why let them live with the remnants of our love, constantly torturing them because to be friends would make us feel good? And when we finally can look them in the eye and see the extent we hurt them, why can't we fix it?
Why did I leave him? I gave him lots of reasons-college, cheating, growth, maturity. There were few I left out-I didn't love him anymore. I just realized it one day, but I could feel it happening. There were signs-I didn't feel sparks when I kissed him goodbye, when I left for the ever-dreaded college. I couldn't be as intimate. My thoughts kept wandering. It was strained between us. He didn't see it, though. He thought he could fix it. There was no way he could, unless he changed with me. He can't see that when you actually leave for college instead of going to a community college, people change a lot.
He was living in his own head, his own make believe world that was perfect. Sure, we fought every day, but we loved each other, and love conquers all. Unfortunately, by that point I had enough. I couldn't keep doing that. It was making me miserable, and this was supposed to be the time of my life! They way I did it was horrible, though. I suggested a break, because of the fighting. It didn't help. Thought it might. I kissed him, saw the pain, and couldn't do it. Like a coward, I ran. I did it over the phone, for Christ's sake. I guess the way it works is that we're supposed to discuss it. I didn't know that.
And now? Now it's been almost three months, and he's still not over me. I've been torturing him these past three months, trying and failing to be a good friend. And now he's gone, out of my life, until he can look at me without feeling anything, or until I want him back. In effect, I've lost a friend. A very good friend. And I'm crying over it.
Don't fall in love with me; you'll regret it. <--story of my life
