Push

You push. All you do is push. Push and push until they finally push back. Mumbling apologies to hide mistrust. Smiling to hide disdain. And you buy it. Well, deep down you know it's all bullshit, words to make sure you don't catch on, but on the surface you want to believe they're true. And that's when the hurt starts to creep in. It only starts on the surface, sliding across your skin, but it works it's way down. Through muscle and tissue, nerves and veins, the pain moves deeper. It scrapes on your bones with ferocity and burns your marrow in a blaze of unbearable fire and tears. Pain. Everything. Everywhere. You scream but no one hears. No one wants to hear. Every breath sends lances of fire through your being. Your fists tremble violently with the effort it takes to stay still. And then, through the pain and the tears and the sheer ferocity of it all, you push again.

Push.

Front Teeth

All I want for Christmas is to know that even just one person will miss me when I'm gone.

Wimp

When will it stop, this ache in his heart? Why has it not gone away?

Imagine three scenes:

A guy sitting in church, sitting with friends.

A guy at work, in a warehouse, working with people he's worked with for years.

A guy in a restaurant, sitting across from his friends, all laughing.

Look closely at that guy. Look into his eyes. If you look close enough, you will see the smiles are just a cover. They are just the outer layer that does not reach down to the core. You will see sadness in his eyes. Sadness and loneliness and fear.

But why? Why, in these scenarios, is this guy sad? Or lonely? If only you could look into his heart. You would see sadness as he realises he doesn't belong. You would see loneliness for being the odd one out; the only one without a partner. You would see fear that everyone around him would realise these things and leave him behind. You would see heart crushing emotion that threatens to batter him into a husk of tears and sobs the moment he let's his guard down.

But why does he feel these emotions when surrounded by his friends?

He doesn't know.

For what feels like forever he has tried to puzzle out why he cannot be happy. Forever he has yearned that his smile would not be so forced. Forever he has wished that he could feel loved.

That's it, isn't it? Love. He doesn't feel loved. In every scene we see him among friends and co-workers but sadness in his eyes. It's because he feels unloved and not cared about. He wants to believe they would notice if he stopped being there. He wants to believe there would be someone by his side in tragedy. He wants to believe a tear would be shed if he ceased to breathe.

He has so much love for all those people. Why don't they ever love him back?

The Grind

For how long do I have to live through this pain? When will the day come when I can look at you and not feel my heart tear in two? Is it too much to ask for this nightmare to return to it's best days? To the days when all I looked forward to was seeing you walk in? To sitting across from you at Tim's, talking like nothing ever really mattered? To those mornings in the car, driving through sleet and snow to get you to school? To feeling like you actually cared when I talked?

I miss the fun we had. I miss our conversations. I miss our friendship. I miss you. Years of memories, all but lost. Years of memories that mean nothing to you. Years of memories that once brought uncontrollable smiles to my face, now bring tears that don't know how to stop.

Years of wanting to be more than a friend to you has faded into a longing that the words you say to me were true. That the smiles you give me weren't forced. That being near me wasn't a test of your patience. But if wishes were wings, I'd have flown to the sun and back, and you'd still be out of reach.

So what is this? An ode to times gone by? A lament to lost love?

No.

This is my goodbye.

As Time Approaches Infinity...

Here I am. Just me. Alone again. What am I doing? I'm slowly killing myself, that's what. For a guy who finds it completely unbearable to be alone, I startlingly push you all away. Why can't I leave well enough alone?

I'm not the person I could be. I'm not the friend to you all that I should be. I'm not the man I want to be. So what am I?

I'm a collection of mistakes. I'm failure personified. I'm a fool playing at life. I'm broken and alone, reaching out to anyone and everyone who so much as smiles at me. But none of you have the time or patience to deal with me. I'm too much to deal with. My emotions are a roller coaster. My sensitivity is turned up to 11. My tears flow far to readily. I'm broken and alone and I have nowhere to cast any of the blame but upon myself.

I wish I could change, but I know that's impossible. I've been in this same spot for years. I've hurt so many loved ones, one of them more precious than anything or anyone I could ever imagine. If I could do that to her, what is stopping me from doing it to all of you?

Nothing.

As time approaches infinity, I approach the ability to be a friend.

Unicorns and Fairies

What if magic were real?

I'd see you from across the crowded room, your eye catching mine. We'd make our way to each other, anticipation putting a swiftness to our feet. We'd meet in the centre of the room, the multitude of bodies surrounding us suddenly invisible. Holding you in my arms, I'd kiss you, vehemently and fervently. Time would stop and the moment would last to our dying breath. I would never let you go, if magic were real.

We'd say hello to each other, youthful shyness finally overcome by a want to befriend. We'd grow up together, playing whenever together. We'd both find girlfriends and boyfriends over the years, none ever satisfying for long. We'd finish high school, moving on to college and time-consuming jobs. We'd grow closer despite a time-tested friendship. One fateful night, we'd stare into each other's eyes, realising this was more than mere friendship. We's finally be together, if magic were real.

I'd ask you out in a letter because I was too shy, and too afraid of rejection, to ask you in person. Answering your call would be the hardest thing I ever did. You'd be yourself, kindly accepting a date with me. We'd go out, me making a fool out of myself, you as elegant as ever. It would bloom into a long romance, a strong relationship that would last years in the very least. We'd grow old together, our love never fading for a moment, if magic were real.

If only magic were real.

Nostalgia

I've sunken into my end of your couch, you at the other, each of us nearly completely surrounded by pillows. The gray corduroy of the cushions is warmingly welcome. It's a comfortable position to be in.

As we sit there, vegging out to endless hours of CSI, I'm oblivious to one glaring fact. I'm happy here. Simply happy. I could stay here forever as long as you're here to keep me company, commenting occasionally on the terrible programming we're subjecting ourselves to.

But what we put on the television is of no consequence to the evening. In fact, the worse it is, the better time we have. For the tv is not the reason I spend so much time at your house, my dear friend. It is you. Your smile, your laugh, your company. Just you. You don't know the storm you helped me to weather by being you.

The hour is approaching 5 o'clock in the morning, and our eyes are heavy. I think you dozed off once or twice, refusing to send me home to sleep. We're still having too much fun. But I know you need your sleep, and I do too for that matter. I say goodbye, you give me one of your hugs (they always were the best) and I set off walking home, earbuds blasting something to keep me attentive in the dark.

Arriving home, I sneak past my dad getting up for work and climb silently into bed. No need for them to know what time I arrived home. As I lay my head on my pillow and sleep quickly descends, I can't help but smile. What a great night.

I awake, the smile on my face slowly disappearing as reality sets in. Just a dream. No. Not a dream. A memory. A fond recollection of a time that once was. A time that could have been hell, but was bliss because of her. She was laid back, honest to a fault and a frigging riot. She made the problems of my life melt away, for a few hours at least.

My smile returns. I'll always remember her. My friend.