a full library of empty thoughts

a broken iphone 8

none of it feels real anymore. 

well, using my words in the present tense insinuates that something is still happening. i could say that it doesn't feel real now, in retrospect, but that doesn't make sense either. because it was, it had to be, right? was it? it doesn't feel like it was real when it was happening. does that... does that mean anything? is that a contradiction ?? am i the contradiction ?

it felt real in the moment and that's what i'm telling myself matters. that in that moment, all that time, i thought it was real?

but did i?

i had my doubts, that's for sure. 

there was always a fear, from the day it began. that you were just another person who would turn away right when i got vulnerable, but i shrugged it off as the issues correlated with moving from state to state my whole life. but then i got worried. you were different with me. it stressed me out, hell, thinking about it still does. how you became a person i couldn't even look at when you were with your other friends. everything i loved about you was stripped away into a surface level person that wasn't even human. 
but with me you were something, at least what i saw. you laughed, you cried, you agreed and we fought but it was fine because i loved you.

i love you.

but i can't, i shouldn't. not anymore.

there was also the lying. i never lied to you, maybe because you were my only consistency throughout a rollercoaster of days that always felt the same but never were. maybe i didn't lie because you were my best friend, and i thought best friends don't lie. 
however there were so many times i needed you. i was grasping at straws, gasping for air, begging for something; but i was alone. it was like a void. there was nothing. i always believed you, though. when you said you couldn't help me due to personal issues, due to not being allowed out past a certain time. i always believed you. 
that was until my own plans changed and i caught you in it. but, i never mentioned it to you. i still wonder why. 

there were so many times i cried to my mom over you. i'd tell her
"mom, i don't think she likes me."
"mom, what if she's using me?"
"mom, what if she leaves?"
"mom, it hurts."
and it did. it hurt so. much.

there was only so much she could say. granted, i couldn't say much either. i was incompetent, no, no i am incompetent. no matter how much i hurt i'd still come back, and you knew that. i needed you and you thrived off of it. i think all you needed was my validation. the benefits of being friends with the overly-nice artistic weirdo that sat in the middle of all the honors classes and had the "universal mom" that everyone loved to hang out with. you liked the outward stability of what my family allowed you to see, what they gave you. you liked spending time with my sisters and sitting on the couch with my dogs.

you also liked coming over and not talking to me. sitting on MY couch for hours on your phone, making (arguably) more interesting plans with (arguably) more interesting people. you sat there on the phone with simultaneously everyone and no one, while i desperately tried to move your attention for something that we could do together.

you loved dragging me along with your friends you knew i hated. i don't know why. the same people that pointed and laughed at me in school were the same person i was in the public pool with the following saturday at your command. i hated every second of it, i hated the way they treated you, you didn't give a shit about how they looked at me. 

i was a stand in for every friend that blew you off.

i was always the last option, you were always my first. i ditched so many people for you, i literally blew off my actual closest friends because you wanted to come over and play mario kart, and i let it all happen. it flew over my head and i had this illusion of happiness, because it was something that i thought was real.