Have a spell with that girl already? Yap, she's Dea, if you notice I've spent a lot of my times in campus with her. This part might sound pathetic because among the people I could barely blend with, she's one beyond of. I hate this fact too that I may look fine with my surroundings but deep inside I only am badly picky; I'd rather have no friends than 'pretend' to have ones. Seriously I find it's getting harder to believe in anyone no more—as the past said so—then don't be easily judging because it's the open heart that vulnerable to the wounds.
There are actually some of people like her besides yet my finger hands are redundance to count. I tell you this is cool instead; having exactly home you can come back to, having no doubt shoulder you can lean on, having randomly stupid talks you can mock at, and having safely secrets you can share with. I'm not going to mention them one by one here—they don't need to anyway—this would be more likely an uttered thought of how those people I love can be fascinating me, this much.
So, last week, I met one of them in a purpose. He's also my just-found-best-friend—if only he assumes I am—, and how that night turned to be so ridiculous, at least for me to realize this too late, I haven't been that rude to anyone before. I don't think it would last in his mind as it would in mine because this person is unpredictably unpredictable, like he knows everything I haven't yet known. Which what I'm sure he could read this post but act like doesn't, well I keep writing anyway.
I forgot the detail of what we talked on that night but the entire things of what he did slight. He left me on group paper, skipped some essays that I couldn't not write down his name, abandoned the test when it came to final exam that I had to find a 'fake sick letter' to the lecturer. Still those are not the point after all, may I ask you can anyone let their friends in such troubles whatever the reasons are? I can not. And that time, I was bursting, blabbering out in front of his face. Word after word relieved me so much, but in the other hand, it was so hard to hold the tears that wanted to stream down as bad as I've finally noticed he did nothing but stared in silence. Like, did I hurt him?
I don't get why I could be so mean, when his moves made the ashtray fell down hitting the floor, I glanced at the mess and said: "Oh poor, how those could be as miserable as your life." And he replied: "Mine is more, I guess." Shit that was funny to be honest but should I laugh at his miserable life? As I looked at the left cigars we had, what if; when you're smoking there are people around to smoke with you, to smoke with your cigars but then when there are no cigars no more, they would leave and let you clean the ash alone, wouldn't they? There are only some people who will be sincerely being with you still, even buy you the new cigars so you can smoke another. They are your friends, so let them ease you because when you cry, they'll cry.
Don't be that reluctant, trust me, if I haven't known you this won't be hurt as well. I ain't telling as I've got the best knowing at all but if anyone is in my place I'm sure they'll do the same things I did. In case, if Dea turns to be like this I can be as freak out as; omg what I have to do that she can manage to say: "I'm fine," because like seriously I can see that she's not.
And like Blair ever said to Chuck: "Your father believes in you. I believe in you. You're the only one who didn't." So, don't you miss the class?
There are actually some of people like her besides yet my finger hands are redundance to count. I tell you this is cool instead; having exactly home you can come back to, having no doubt shoulder you can lean on, having randomly stupid talks you can mock at, and having safely secrets you can share with. I'm not going to mention them one by one here—they don't need to anyway—this would be more likely an uttered thought of how those people I love can be fascinating me, this much.
So, last week, I met one of them in a purpose. He's also my just-found-best-friend—if only he assumes I am—, and how that night turned to be so ridiculous, at least for me to realize this too late, I haven't been that rude to anyone before. I don't think it would last in his mind as it would in mine because this person is unpredictably unpredictable, like he knows everything I haven't yet known. Which what I'm sure he could read this post but act like doesn't, well I keep writing anyway.
I forgot the detail of what we talked on that night but the entire things of what he did slight. He left me on group paper, skipped some essays that I couldn't not write down his name, abandoned the test when it came to final exam that I had to find a 'fake sick letter' to the lecturer. Still those are not the point after all, may I ask you can anyone let their friends in such troubles whatever the reasons are? I can not. And that time, I was bursting, blabbering out in front of his face. Word after word relieved me so much, but in the other hand, it was so hard to hold the tears that wanted to stream down as bad as I've finally noticed he did nothing but stared in silence. Like, did I hurt him?
I don't get why I could be so mean, when his moves made the ashtray fell down hitting the floor, I glanced at the mess and said: "Oh poor, how those could be as miserable as your life." And he replied: "Mine is more, I guess." Shit that was funny to be honest but should I laugh at his miserable life? As I looked at the left cigars we had, what if; when you're smoking there are people around to smoke with you, to smoke with your cigars but then when there are no cigars no more, they would leave and let you clean the ash alone, wouldn't they? There are only some people who will be sincerely being with you still, even buy you the new cigars so you can smoke another. They are your friends, so let them ease you because when you cry, they'll cry.
Don't be that reluctant, trust me, if I haven't known you this won't be hurt as well. I ain't telling as I've got the best knowing at all but if anyone is in my place I'm sure they'll do the same things I did. In case, if Dea turns to be like this I can be as freak out as; omg what I have to do that she can manage to say: "I'm fine," because like seriously I can see that she's not.
And like Blair ever said to Chuck: "Your father believes in you. I believe in you. You're the only one who didn't." So, don't you miss the class?
