an empty apology

i betrayed you so beyond anything you've ever done to me. the things you've done on purpose. the things you've done without even knowing. they will never add up to what i've done. every time i'm reminded of it i pray that i could just go back to that night and stop myself from hurting you. a hurt that lingers. a hurt that's out there. a hurt that's floating right below the surface. how much longer until i see the look of disappointment, hurt, in your eyes when you discover what i've done? i love you more than you'll ever be able to comprehend, but you hurt me so much on that day. and i lashed out. and i was drunk, and i was stupid and those aren't excuses for it. they don't make it okay. make it understandable. it's just what i did. and i can't take it back. i got smacked in the face with it again last night. they all think it's a big joke. that your honesty is something that is okay to laugh at behind your back. they carelessly toss it around as if it was something so simple to mock. i hate them for it. i hate myself more for placing it directly into their hands. you were brave in that moment, sitting across from you in your apartment that night. braver than i've ever been. brave like i want to be. brave like i'm finding it hard to be. i hate who they've become. maybe that's who they were all along. maybe they were just better at hiding it before. i'm sorry. those are just words. words that will never matter. words that will never make things right. i quit them last night. i quit me. i quit this stupid town. this stupid life. twenty nine years and some days, this is the first time i've ever really hated it here. i want to pack a suitcase of the few clothes that i own that still fit me, dump all my cds onto my nomad, grab my cell phone and just get the hell out of here. leave everything else behind. everything that reminds me of me. of them. of you. of us. leave it all and just move on. a moment of clarity that hit me last night as she was screaming on the front lawn. i don't belong here. i don't belong with them. i don't belong anywhere. i've known you for twenty years and i hate the person i see when i look at you. the stranger you've become. there are pictures of you all over this room. i see them and pause and wonder who those people are. i laugh at the absurdity of it all when my mind tries to force me to belive that they're of you. of us. the guitar pick that you caught but gave to me because it meant more to me. the glass you took from that bar because i wanted it, shoving it up your sleeve as we awkwardly walked out of the bar. the picture you drew for me that still hangs on my wall. the mix tape with the skips in it because of your broken stereo that you overnighted to me so i would have it on my birthday. paying an insane amount of money to make sure it would be here since you couldn't. i have all of these things but i no longer have any of you. i don't want any of you. my friends don't judge. my friends aren't mean. my friends don't mock you behind your back. my friends don't stop talking when you join them at the table. my friends don't exist.

"it's getting more impossible to keep a straight face and be trusted with i love you." -b.o.