A Friend

A real friend....maybe I've never even had one....after all this time. While I sat and died, she simply watched. Expressionless, emotionless, uninterested, and aloof. Now, if the tables had been turned, and she was deep down in her grave as I, I would have given up my sanity to, not just hold her hand through it all, make it better for her, and I'd even go a step further to fixing it. I wouldn't accept that it was impossible, I'd fix it for her. I would want to. It wouldn't be an obligation or a standard I have to follow. I'd become selfless for her. I didn't want her to give up her time, or anything or really do anything. I just wanted her to acknowledge that something, something horrendously dire was going on. Just some acknowledgment. And to just utterly abandon me, it wouldn't be half as bad if I was ok, but I wasn't. I was legitimately dying. I was being ripped apart piece by piece before her very eyes. I was crucified. I was murdered. And I got no response. I'm NOT saying I'm a saint at all, and I know she cared... we just have two VERY different ways of showing it.

Maybe it was miss-communication. Maybe something was misunderstood. Whatever it was, though, will probably never be worked out. I'm worn out with this. It's done.
She did care. ----- But, no bystander would be able to tell.

The animosity, it's still there, I always felt as if you didn't care
The animosity, it ain't gone, I now realize you done me wrong

A FEW DAYS LATER:
I'm not mad anymore
I really miss her and our talks.
We figured out the world with our talks.