It's funny to think that despite the crap she put me through, she ended up teaching me something

January 1, 2009
2:18 AM

I spent most of my high school experience in that hallway,

sitting Indian style against the wall. The girl with dark red hair, who wore funky colored socks and fidgeted a lot when nervous, sat underneath the red EXIT sign. And the I was, right next to her, with my painted zip hoodies and beat up moccasins. Most of the time we sat in silence, staring into the darkened hallway with saddened faces that grew tired. Our conversations always traveled the same direction with awkward glances at her wrists. The marks weren't deep, in fact sometimes they weren't even noticeable. And it always bothered me to a point where I was frazzled. I felt as if she was lying to me, acting like she was dying when in fact she wasn't endangering her life. She was manipulating me, she was manipulating everybody. Yes, she had a problem, and yes, it was unhealthy for her mental state, but I mean... really? Is this a joke? Why did she have to drag ME into HER problems? She was wasting my time. She wanted me to sit there while she drenched my shoulder with her tears and while she vented.

I was being a friend to her and then... she would leave,

only to return when she was a wreak again. It was a one sided relationship and it drove me apart that I did not receive my end on the deal.

But maybe...
that's what love is
giving and learning not to expect anything back.