sketchboard

You're the best friend I've ever had, but it's impossible for me to figure you out. You don't over analyse anything the way I do. Things are what they are, you refuse to find a deeper meaning. When bad things happen, they're supposed to. You're not heartless in the way I make you sound. You just kinda move on. Or do you? Because then you start to question things that happened in the past. It's never a real conversation, just a thought that came to mind. Quick and unexpected you spit it out in that really fast, nervous tone that only I can comprehend. I can't figure out if all you do is care what people think or you truly just are too caught up to be concerned.

You came home from Paradise and before I even heard about the nights saturated with liquor and the native friends I'm sure that you made, I can hear it in your voice that you aren't okay. Something happened, it's just my instinct. I just know. I'm always the advice giver of my friends when something is truly wrong, but this time I know it's different. Three months ago he was that hands-off hot ass that you dreamed about every night. He showed interest in someone else. You didn't want to move on, but once you did, you were back to normal; I mean what else would I expect from you? But now it's him who wants you and you didn't know how to react. Go with it, sure. I mean it's Paradise, why not have a good time? But I don't think you thought about what it'd do to you on a deeper level.

He's five years older than you. You have such a bright future. Don't waste it on someone who won't matter a year down the road. Victory isn't so sweet. Let's stay young forever and stare in awe at the lives of what we believe to be the sultry and sweet. I don't know if I can handle you not being you. This inconsistency is going to drive me insane.