I just know there's something fucked up between them. There's something way-more-than-friendish about them.

People tell me about how they hold hands in class, and then say they're not "together." Really Devon? You called me a whore when I told people Mitch and I were undefined when he held my hand in school for the first time. Who's the whore now?

Oh.

Still me.

But I digress.

I know there's something between them. Maybe it's the way they fucking stare at each other all the time, share their food across the table at lunch, and call each other stupid little pet names (that oh-by-the-way came from me first... Dev & Pockets... my two very bestest... the two people I would do anything to get the fuck out of my life). No, "Dev," it's not totally obvious that what you do behind closed doors is sexual, even though you try to deny that every time you bring her up.

I'm not stupid.

I know her. I know what she's like, and I know what you're like, especially when it comes to girls like [me]. Yep, she's like me Devon--and you know what that means? That means she's a whore, too.

That kind of backfired on you, now, didn't it?

Remember when we started dating, "Dev," two years ago, and I told you I felt like a whore for doing some of those things with you? You tried to comfort me, and tell me that there was nothing to worry about, but in the end I still felt like shit about it. I never stopped feeling shitty about our relationship, the sexual aspects of it, and the way that you always seemed to stop caring about me and my feelings when we started getting dirty.

Honestly Devon. I tried to tell you these things. You didn't listen.

What the hell is the point, really? He's not reading this. He's blocked my fictionpress updates, anyway.

Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck my life.

My relationship with Mitch? Totally awkward. I don't know how I'm going to deal with him when he comes home. I don't know how I'm going to deal with myself when he gets home tomorrow night from hunting up north.

Oh, and she still reads my updates. She never comments, reviews, or even tells me that she reads them, but she does. So you know, all those little subliminal (and not so subtle) messages I've been leaving for her, literally begging her to speak to me, were all a waste. She's been ignoring them all along.

These two kind of go together.

I realized the other day that they kind of belong together. I mean, they're both snotty fucking spoiled brats... Neither of them can care for themselves. For example, if her mom doesn't do her laundry, she doesn't wear clean clothes--oh and she fully expects her mother to do her laundry. He has never even touched the wash machine. In fact, I'm pretty sure I never saw him even enter that room of his house. Anyway...

I want to get over him (as a hugely important part of my life anyway) but I don't think that's possible when I know he's with her.

[[Oh. And I'm the whore? Right.]]

I honestly cannot believe that he would go so far as to call me a whore and then turn around and do basically the same thing with her. Her--

my (ex)best friend, the girl that I'm still in love with. Hopelessly. In. Love. With.

Does anyone else understand why I'm upset by this? That there are how many millions of other women in the world and he runs straight to her?

He's listened to me cry over her how many nights in the last two years... yet he doesn't understand at all how much it hurts me to see them together, me completely out of the picture.

Stupid fucking boy.

obnoxious &
always ready to make me
get a little sweaty when we

I've had him since I was like... two or three years old... and he's always been my very best friend.

This morning, Mom said she was going to call the vet because Sam was having such a hard time with everything...

I searched him out before I went to school. He wasn't in the house; he was on the porch. Dad had put his food dish out there with him and there was left over hamburger helper in his dish.

& I knew it would be the last time I'd ever touch him, and I wanted to make the most of it, but I had to go. I had to leave for school. I took in his old, kind of dirty smell, and looked into his beautiful brown eyes for the last time. I ran my fingers through his thick hair.

I started to cry.

I cried all the way from my house to Lauren's, where I frantically wiped the tears off of my cheeks. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want her to know I was crying.

At lunch, I mentioned it, but tried to stay off the subject.

& when I got home... I knew he was gone. I let Mom hug me, and I let her tears fall onto my face. I just held onto her, but didn't let her see what was happening to me.

I can't cry over him. I can't let my tears fall. I'm torn apart inside.

I can't believe it yet, I can't believe he's gone.

His pillow is still on the floor in the living room & his food dish still has food in it in the kitchen.

I love my Sammer.

And I miss him so much already.

STIX
.mate.feed.kill.repeat.
18 December 1992.
i do not capitalize when i write poetry.


Family.
Friends.
Mitch.
Boys.
Pretty girls.
A drug-free world.
Kisses on the forehead.
Slipknot, Metallica, & Mozart.
Hugs.
Touch&beTouched.
Love&beLoved.

shh, i'm always here for you.


February 2009
March 2009
June 2009
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