Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Get up already.

If someone is depressed, my first instinct is to try and cheer them up. But when it's my fault that that person is depressed, my hands are tied. I have nothing I can do because you don't want to see my face again. I try to tell you to get over it, to tell you I'm unimportant, but you just won't let me go. You won't stop missing me. It's tying us both down. Get over it. Let us be friends again. All I did was tell you what I wanted. I want to kick your ass back into shape, so that we can get back to where we used to be; back to when we were friends, but I can't do that unless you let me. Look, the past is the past, you need to accept it. Unless you want to swim in your own self-inflicted misery, get up. Get over it. It's all I'm asking. Just get up and stop being depressed. You got the easy end of it, believe me. All you ended up with was a broken heart and masochistic holes in your skin. I ended up friendless and guilty. I ended up being the one trying so hard to pick up the pieces. I ended up being the one keeping you from hurting yourself. Look around  you, please. Everything I did I did because I cared. About both you and me. So get the hell up and let's start over.