Abondonement Isn't Always Pretty

I had planned for a sleepover today. I was really excited. The girl I was having the sleepover with hadn't seen me in so long. It actually was only planned because she wanted to meet my friend. She didn't even care about seeing me. Well she might have, but not enough as she should've. She doesn't realize. Not because I don't tell her, but because she probably is too ignorant to notice. It feels like she's using me, to get what she wants. She tells me that's not true, that's not her intention, and I believe her, but I think she's still doing it, but not deliberately. She's like this. When she loves a guy, she goes full force into loving him, and every little thing as about him. And I don't matter anymore. She only has eyes for him, and the girl she's crushing beneath her heavy weight of emotion is invisible. But little does she know I'm still there. She used to be depressed, and upset a lot. A lot like me. Of course I was an intensified version, but we could still understand each other. We talked a lot, and we were almost mildly happy in our little bubble of deceipt. It seemed I needed her more than she needed me, but she never figured that out. She was always talking about everything. Who she's mad at, why she's mad at them, and the list goes on. She never held anything back. But me, I'm different I hold everything inside, and cling to my memories, my thoughts, my words, my feelings, leaving no trace of it on my face. And if she ever got around to asking, I always said I had nothing to talk about. There was nothing wrong with me today. And I could go through that so easily, that she believed me. She knew I was upset, but she believed that I had nothing I wanted to talk about. That was half true at the time, I didn't want to talk about it. But as time went on with her, I realized that even though I always hold back, and everyone continues to remain clueless, I want to tell them. I want to explode with everything one day and hope to feel nothing. I want to feel indifferent. Feeling happy doesn't happen for me, and I don't want it to. Overly happy people look too happy, and they look almost stupid and naive as I was. Before I discovered myself for who I was, and rather than reject it, I gave in and let it controll me. But it didn't force me into doing anything I didn't want to do. It may just be the illness talking, because they can tend to do that, but I want this feeling most of the time. But I always figured it would be cool to just feel indifferent. Have no emotion ontop of me bringing me down. And now that I don't have that friend anymore, I guess I don't have extra emotion on me that isn't my own. Because she always loved to just rant on forever, really, and no matter how much I wanted to spill the tiniest amound of my feelings, I never did. Not that I didn't have th chance, or that I didn't hve the courage, I just took her feelings into consideration. She doesn't need me as her respnsibility. She has her own problems and she doesn't need me. She doesn't need to hear me drone on and on like I am now. She's better off without knowing what it's like for me on the inside. And when she ditched me for that guy she loved, although I know it's love, and probably impulsive, I still could never let go of that. I still hold onto those feelings of resentment I can't banish. Because she didn't care about me. I don't think she ever cared about me that much. I was just a tool for her to use and get better. She always told me I was the most important thing in her life, but was I? Was I so important that she didn't even listen enough to my feelings to know I will never recover. I will always be a fragile, broken girl. Even so, she doesn't even talk to me much anymore. We only talked recently because we were planning that sleepover. But after her and this guy couldn't work anything out, she gave up, and she was sad, but she got over it. And slowly, she stopped being as upset. And slowly, she stopped talking to me. Gradually, then suddenly. Then it all hit me. We didn't talk. And she seemed almost fine. While I was worse. I'm always worse. Never better. And when she ditched me today to go to some birthday party for some of her old neighbours she doesn't see anymore, it hurt. Because I just wanted to yell at her that she doesn't see me either. And that we don't talk. And I wanted so bad to just get to see her, and talk to her, and have her around me again. But I reamained silent. Like I always do. I just agreed with it like it was no big deal. To her it wasn't. But to me, the smallest detail could be amplified into a monstrosity of emotion. And I don't think it would've mattered if I did scream, she wouldn't listen. Because then, she went off to go hang out with her friend. The friend she used to be in love with, that she agreed to be friends with. Ditched again. So I sent her a message. I told her that I couldn't do it anymore, and she wasn't worth this. I still haven't gotten a reply, but when I woke up this morning, I regretted sending that. But looking back now, after seeing all that this has done to me, I regret nothing. I don't regret telling her. For a matter of fact, I should just send this to her to show her what she's done to me. But I shouldn't. No matter how mad and upset I am, I'm shouldn't do that. She may not be as fragile and broken as me, but no matter how mended you are from how you used to be, there are always cracks and scratches that can always reopen if the situation gets bad enough. And so my weekend remains free. What will I do? I'm going to take my fluffy body pillow, curl up on the couch and stay there. Stay there until the sun goes down. Stay there until I feel like getting up. It could be never. All I know is I don't want to belong to someone as closely, ever again.