Second day

I was always falling in love but never the love has been returned, not even for a glance. My all previous relationships were based on people that had some affection towards me, but I never had any towards them. The ones I have had a crush on, never had it on me. So I took a chance with the ones who showed it to me, not me to them. And of course, it didn't work. 

In every single relationship I was unhappy, frustrated and simply not me. I knew that there was something more about this love concept, more than settling for a bad person. Maybe not all of them were bad as a person, but they were certainly bad for me. They affected me badly, they were having a negative effect on me. With them, I could not be the person who I am. They were all trying to change me. To change me to the point, that I too would become just another empty shell.

Luckily all my life experience brought me that much sense, that I ran away from all that people. They don't haunt me at night. Sometimes they come to my mind, but I don't feel anything and I quickly forget about them. Maybe someday I will forgive myself for ever letting them in my life. After the end, I have heard nothing about any boyfriend I ever had. I do not want to know. I don't know them anymore. I wish I never knew any of them.

It's funny, how a person can regret and despise every single previous relationship with boys, and to think and accept, maybe even with long lost friends. 

When the whole concept of Arozo family was established in my life, all the previous relationships with friends were forgotten. All the previous pain was pushed aside. It was like all that supposed to happened, with the reason to prepare me for something so beautiful, so divine that no words can describe. 

For some time there was a true connection with many people, it was maybe even unconditional love within friends. All different, but the same. Brought together by the same festival, the same music, the same interest, the same ideas, and the same happiness. So firm, that no one could bring us apart, no one but ourselves. Now we are so fragile, that no sticker could save us from damaging. Cracks are in every corner, no one in our family has enough of glue to fill them. Our whole family is as damaged, as is damaged every individual in our family. We all are damaged goods. Together we should celebrate life, like only we can, which we have proved on many opportunities. But we are currently on a point of no future. No future. No future if we stay the way we are. Us as individuals and us as relationships between us. 

No one outside would ever believe me that we have any problems. Heck, I think that even we inside don't believe we have any problems. When we meet, we have a good time. A very, very good time. Then we go home, we sober up, we go to sleep. It was a great weekend we say. 

The weekend was great, but events before the weekend weren't. With me and her broken, it's so selfish how I think that whole family now have a problem. No, it does not. We are the problem, me and her. What brought us together, may tear us apart. Our relationship was a blessing, but now it may turn out to be a curse. I'm struggling to find some real proof of betrayal. There is none. No firm, physical proof. Nothing. No written word, no heard conversation. All I have feelings and observed changes in behaviour. I got nothing. 

How should I confront someone with nothing to serve on a platter?

This is why I am ignoring all the calls, that's why I don't write back. I write here, here where I know there can be no answer. No answer, where my feelings would be considered my fault immediately. Where all of my observations would be proven false with her words. Where I would be guilty for every single thing that you can put guilt on. For all the mistakes there would be just one to blame.

The one who wants to help. But the help is refused. The walls have been put so high, that no one can reach them. Not even I, who once before reached them. I reach them without knowing there was any.

It's seemed so sincere, so meant to be. Like all the events in our lives have been preparing us for this. For friendship of life. But as years passed by, the image of real me started to clash with the image of real me in her eyes. It was like a mirror. The image of real her in my eyes started to clash with the image of real her. 

But for me, that was no problem, I somehow learned to accept. I accepted it all until it hasn't got any real effect on our relationship. 

But slowly it had. Day by day in this past months, I felt that it is not right anymore. It didn't felt like it did before. It felt different. Still does. I don't understand what is so wrong, I don't know how to explain it. It just is. I just do not feel sincere anymore. It feels like everything is done under pressure. Everything is written just for the sake of it. It feels like we always talked every day, so even if we don't feel like it, it must be done. It hurts me when there is no response to things important to me, to things that are bordering me. I am always there to listen, and once she was always there to listen me. Now I am even afraid to reveal my everyday troubles to her because there were no right words from her lately to comfort me. Neither have I wanted to share my joy with everyday blessing because I can feel that she is not truly happy with me. 

And I know that this is not because of me. I know that there is something deeper in her that is triggering this wicked behaviour that is going on. I can not be the one to blame. But I am, and that's why I am slowly swimming to my key, that will release me from this chains. 

Do I want to?

No. It's the last thing on earth that is want to do. I want to pretend, I want to write back, I want to do only small talk. But, when there will be no me, there will be time. Time for her, to spend only by herself. She, her head and her thoughts. 

It's time to learn what brought me to even search for the key. What has pushed me so hard that I started to write? I started to write almost after 10 years. This time around they are not depressed poems, this time around I write to understand, I write to understand, what is going on. To learn my true feelings, to learn what is my real role in this story. 

I want to start the conversation once, but I am afraid I can not come back without putting all the things on the platter, even if there are no things to put. The feelings will have to do. They will have to be enough to start thinking. Not just to start thinking, but to start talking about everything that has happened, everything that hurt any of us. Not just what is hurting now, but what once did. What once did so much, that walls have been built.