From June 21 Onward

Inside Out

July 3, 2002

         I thought it would get better.
Tonight my hopes were squelched.
         A little scorn, some emotional spit in
the face. A slight twist and jerk of the knife.
She really kicked me this time.
         I thought things would get better.
Recently I've been just kind of working my way
back, sort of refusing to acknowledge the
recent events and act like everything was
normal. It's been working. When I told her
goodbye yesterday as she left, she looked
back and waved her little wave that she
always used to. The one that meant
"Goodbye, I really do look forward to the next
time we meet." Or was she waving to my
brother standing behind me?
         Tonight I said goodbye. No response.
I yelled goodbye. Nothing. I shouted goodbye
as loud as I could without making a scene.
Cold shoulder. My bro then casually walks by
and says bye. She didn't stop at actually
acknowledging his presence. She gave him a
hug the way she used to hug me, glaring at
me the whole time. She really was, and it
really struck an artery that time.
         It turned out that we all had the same
ride home. The whole time I was trying to
express myself, sort of let her know covertly
how I was feeling. There were plenty of other
people in the car, so it was pretty difficult.
What made it worse was everyone's
accusations that I was throwing some kind of
pity party. Sigh...If that's what it means to try
and show someone yourself with all these
people around, then I guess so. But I really
hate people feeling sorry for me. She just
needed to know, but there wasn't any better a
time to tell her.
         I made a dent in my wall with my head
after getting into a fight with my brother. I
evolved the dent into a full-fledged hole with
the assistance of my fist. I suppose I really
couldn't blame my brother. She chose him to
be the one she flaunted herself with in front of
me, and she's not exactly the girl that you
would say, "Could you please stop hanging all
over me?" to. But it still gets to me. Which is
prolly just what she wants.
         I know that some out there are
thinking I'm some kind of freak that can't let
go. But if you had been witness to the past
couple of months from my point of view, you'd
know. Maybe some people out there
understand. I don't fully myself.
         On a lighter note, it inspired some
more poetry in me. Of course, none of it can
possibly be the happy kind. It never is in
times like this. Maybe after it all clears up, I
can churn out a few joyful words. Until then,
this is all I've got.
         Finally, before I go, more
recommended listening: Every Rose Has
Its Thorn by Poison. That's it.

~ Dris ~