Chopin

The Last Words Scrawled Among The Ruins

The End of All Maybe

I've been where you are before
Chopin
maitriaya

If you read this, you're important to me.
Chopin
maitriaya
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mN-CqIytN2U

Why couldn't I do this anymore? It hurts. I wonder if I avoid a lot of the people that I shared this with because I'm ashamed of how much they might know about me. Or maybe it was just time move on. I hated moving on when this started. I don't love it now, but I can look back on these last fourteen or so years and see the necessary changes. Everything doesn't always lead up to this second, but right now what I needed was this, for some strange reason.
It felt good.

(no subject)
Angry Dome
maitriaya




(no subject)
Chopin
maitriaya
How many people still use this?
I want to know how safe this is.

(no subject)
Chopin
maitriaya
I don't want this to be all there is.

to my journal:
Chopin
maitriaya
Just like everything else in my past, I wish I could reach out to you and pull you back to me. I want to relive the best days and the worst days, all of them with you. I want to walk together again.
But time's past. Everything moves on and has moved on already. You're different now, and pulling you back to me would be robbing you of what you are.
I'm lonely without you, but I'll keep on living, and the better for having known you.

(no subject)
Chopin
maitriaya
my lonely heart it falls apart for you to mend

11/1/10
Chopin
maitriaya
As I approached he handed her a slip of paper and she polutely shook her head, turning to walk away from him. I held her bag out to her and she quickly slipped it over her shoulder and walked away without once looking directly at me. I felt the desire to walk after her and throw myself at her feet. No sooner had that thought arrived then I was accosted by my new friend who was reaching an arm around my shoulders in what I assumed to be a friendly, if somewhat menacing, gesture.
"You should go treat yourself to a smoke, kid. You look like you've been through hell."
I told him I would, but the smoking areas on campus notoriously disturbing places that I didn't want to be hanging around.
"Nah, just smoke in the car. I'll sit up front and watch. Trust me, it's liberating."
As is started up the engine, he lit the cigarette for me and passed it over.
"So where's this party at? Am I going to have time to get changed or anything?" I had worn fairly nice clothes, but I was very curious about what kind of timeline I was heading along.
"Yeah there's plenty of time. Party's not 'til tomorrow."
I stopped dead.
"You're fucking kidding me, right?"
"Nope. Going to be a good party, you'll see."
"So what the fuck are we going to do until then."
"Chill out. You know, we'll stay low and get ready. I think that girl I was talking to wants me."
"No she fucking doesn't. Have you seen yourself?"
"All my life. You saw her with me. We were working."
"What did you give her?" I was so outraged I forgot entirely about where I was driving. The cigarette fell from my hand and out the window, untasted.
"Be careful, kid. Those aren't cheap. And I gave her my number so we could hook up. If you've got a crush on her just say so and I'll blow her off. I'll find more at the party."
I drove in sullen silence.
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10/28/10
Chopin
maitriaya
The class wore thin on me. We'd already taken the "final" for the class, a career test that would tell us what to do with our lives. This week and the next three were to be spent waiting for the results. One hour in class for five days a week doing nothing. Failure to attend would get me a zero. My eye wouldn't stop twitching, but only in this room.
Sweater seemed content enough to glance sidelong at me and renew her smirk while i pretended to focus on anything.
I'm not sure exactly when it started, but one day her presence made me become very aware of my non-single status. Over time I found myself having to pull back from our conversations and laughter, because enjoying myself around her made me feel guilty. I'd pretend to check my phone, or write in my journal. I knew she was aware because any attempt I made to back away would trigger a sigh from her. A minute of awful silence would then pass by before she'd apparently forgive me and resume our conversation.
I was desperate to tell her that I was sorry for treating her like that. Especially now that I WAS single, but being so straightforward with a girl is a concept I hadn't yet gotten used to.
I pretended to write a poem in my journal for an hour.
As an hour of underlining the same six words repeatedly began to take its toll on me, I decided it wasn't worth it and turned to face her.
Which would have been great but she was gone now. Stuck to the side of my desk, I found a small note handwritten in the mst ridiculous loopy letters, complete with a heart dotting each i.
"Left because I'm bored. Unrelated: I'm considering naming you Mister Boringpants."
I took a deep breath and filed the letter away between the pages of my journal.
Getting up to leave I noticed that she'd left her bag behind, probably because the strap for it had been beneath my shoe. I picked it up and decided to go see if she was in the llibrary, where we'd usually meet up after class to throw pieces of paper at different goals.
I was surprised to find her right outside of the classroom in, talking to a suspicious looking guy with a huge stain on his shirt.
Suddenly I remembered that I had picked up a stranger at a convenience store dumpster and driven him some fifty miles to take a nap in a parking lot while I put in the minimum effort to pass a college class.
He appeared to be asking her for a cigarette.
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10/27/10
Chopin
maitriaya
For reasons I wouldn't understand until later, allowing this guy to hang out in my car seemed like the most natural course. He brushed all my cds off the back seats and laid down without bothering to look for a seatbelt. I didn't bother telling him to belt in, though, I felt something coming that was more important.
In the hour it took to drive to class I spoke to him about my life. I couldn't stop myself, everything was just being pulled out of me as if by some natural force. I told him about the breakup, about how beautiful she'd been and how I'd apparently failed her. I told him that nobody cared about me anymore, how none of my friends had even seemed to hear me when I told them about the breakup. I even told him about how my family had missed my birthday six days before, and done nothing about it since.
The whole time he just nodded politely and acted as though it was completely normal to get into a stranger's car and have him dump the inside of his mind all over you.
I was finishing telling him about my current class and the problems with it, when I arrived at the class in question. He volunteered to attend with me and "pick (me) up some choice tail" in order to "cure (my) bitch problems." I declined and offered to loan him a buck for some coffee. He took the dollar and then made himself comfortable on the seat.
The whole encounter seemed to evaporate three steps into the classroom and I found myself resting comfortably into the non-entity I usually am in a crowded room. I took my seat and began an ambitious attempt to become completely invisible.
From the corner of my eye I noticed a sweater break off from a small crowd at the front of the class and make a deliberate trip across the room to sit in the chair next to mine. A direct inspection confirmed my suspicion that the sweater was occupied by a quietly smirking blonde I'd been sitting next to most days. Or, rather, she'd been sitting next to me. I'd noticed her the first time we'd been forced into a group project. She had been wearing a christmas patterned sweater in the first week of october and I remember being surprised at her comfortable ease with sarcasm. We'd talked above the heads of the kids in the class, fresh from high school and overflowing with intense genuine hope that seemed to make the both of us choke.
It was a friendship forged in necessity that seemed to help us pass through the interminable days stuck in a "career" class required by the college.
Our relationship, though enduring 5 days a week for the better part of the semester seemed to have come under some strain recently, and I was finding myself more and more uncomfortable with our friendship.
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