once upon a time, we were friends.
I don’t even recall when this changed, but when I think back, it seems, you’ve been such a traitorous bitch for the past couple of months. It is probably my fault, so I should apologize for calling you names, but damn… I am mad at you.
I long for you, week after week. Welcome you with open arms when you arrive, always hoping we can go back to the way we were. But every single time it bites me in the ass. When there is nothing left to clean, nothing left to rearrange, vacuum, restock, scrub or build, you leave me alone. Utterly alone. Once, we used to enjoy our time together. Now, when there’s nothing left to do, you leave me all alone with my thoughts – and wow, this is still such a painful experience. I never thought I would say this, but when you’re here, and I have “endured” your presence for more than a day, I long for Monday to come and sweep me away. Keep me busy… keep me away from painful memories, that haunt me (for the time being).
I didn’t mean to call you names. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I am just so disappointed that you and I don’t work out anymore – when I just know how much I really need you.
I hope this period of time will be a short one… and that we will learn to spend time with each other again.
I miss you. Very much.
you used to be fun, you know.
I guess times have changed.
Not only did you develop enormous attitude problems towards your fellow employees, but it appears, you lately lack a certain amount of respect for them, too. It’s like your brain keeps farting 24/7 and your moods constantly seem to have a “bad hair day”… every single day.
I would like to remind you that no one but you is responsible for the unhappiness and incompleteness you feel. Yeah, you’re going through stuff. Deal with it. We all do. And please do us the favor to not project your incompetence to cope unto us.
Today, you made a big mistake.
You tried to use me, snapped at me in a really unprofessional and childish way to blow off some steam. To put it frankly, that shit’s not gonna fly. And I guess I made that clear.
I hope you will eventually rescue yourself from your own ignorance and crack open those martyrdom-crusted eyes of yours.
You used to be fun.
Perhaps there is still a slim chance you will be able to go back to the roots.
The One You Don’t Want To Mess With Right Now
for the millionth time in the past couple of weeks, I wish I could stop scratching. The scabs are yet tender, and I can’t seem to leave them alone. What lies beneath their fragility is much more vivid than what I have to face now… and I can’t really bring myself to accept the fact that soon, they will dry and eventually scar.
There is not a damn thing I can do about it.
A part of me appreciates the faint stabs of pain you cause. Even when my eyes roam elsewhere, I know you are still with me. It is a somewhat comforting reminder of the depth of my feelings. After all, I found I am still human. For that, I am grateful.
Nevertheless I would ask of you to help me still my hands by muting your sometimes fierce and fiery tongues – because we both know, it will be for the better… in the end. You were never meant to stay.
Let’s both be brave and get this over with. I know you can do it.
And so can I.
It has been years since I last saw you and could greet you as a friend.
I think of you – think of the times I moaned and rolled my eyes whenever we had an encounter. I often pushed your buttons – and you were always forgiving.
I took you for granted and feel the need to apologize for the way I treated you. I was young and didn’t know what I was doing. I am so sorry.
Now, that you’ve been gone for so long, I can honestly say: I miss you. Dearly.
I am certain my dishes do not appreciate me invading their privacy every day – I often have to touch them in the most intimate places… it leaves us all feeling uneasy. Most of the time, we can’t even look each other in the eye afterwards… talk about awkward.
I want you to know that I can’t stop thinking about you. I saw your cousin at my friend’s house the other day – he looks a lot like you.
Perhaps one day, you will find your way back to me.
I will look for your coming.