diary 4 (moving on)

i now understand the feeling of frustration that resides deep within my bones, desiring to seep out in resentful words and spiteful jabs, yet it falls from my tear ducts in pleas of apology. i now understand that you are too far from shore for me to swim to, but alas i never knew how to swim so i must turn back from my paddling of a journey to save my own life. 

i have an acoustic guitar now, and you'll never grace the neck of it with your fingertips, and i no longer desire for it to be me instead of the frets. the very thing i deemed as uncomfortable and my new thrill is what destroyed us (me) in the end. i hope you feel remorse but not pity for what you have done to us. i now understand why you are so diligent in cleaning out the dirt under your nails, to remove all traces of me. because what am i but a friend you hold late at night and brush your lips against. there is nothing to a relationship but to fuck. 

now look me in the eyes and hold me in your top eight, hold onto the me you knew that held you deep within my heart. you were all of my firsts, just not the first of one, yet that wasn't enough for you. 

now i know one day your curiosity will bring you to my thoughts, and perhaps you will wish you heard my calls while i still lingered in the moment. I'm sure i will return to missing you, whether it be today or in a month, but for now I'm pretty sure i never meant anything to you unlike you did to me. 

remember, pink hair always lingers.