september september the end of another....

i got another text from him:
"you fell off the face of the planet again, friend. i'm still thinking about you."
i've written a letter to him about a million times in my head... telling him i'm sorry, i have to, because everything he wanted me to be i couldn't, and all i wanted him to be was a friend. he swore he wouldn't try and be anything else.... part of me wants to scream
you know?
tell him he just broke my trust and gave me the affirmation that my physical appearance is all that matters... or maybe just tell him is was every guy before him, and he just pushed me over the edge.
maybe i don't owe him anything at all, but every once in a while i remember how good friends we were before it all, and i wonder if i'm just being an unforgiving asshole about the whole thing.
we used to get into deep conversations, you know?
he was my other catholic friend.
the one i'd sit outside and drink coffee with till all of lakewood closed
and we'd talk about god, gods, or no god at all.
all the people we knew who died...
the ones we had to carry in our hearts.
hell... i still carry him in my heart, too, i guess, but i don't know if i can ever talk to him again.

how could i tell him "i figured it all out, and i got rid of everything in my life i hate, and one half of everything you did was a part of that"?

do people really change?... after they've grown old and are set in their ways? after they've become jaded and bitter and leave their dreams for a life as far from anything they thought they needed? ....leave their kid? he used to tell me how much i'd grown up since we first met (and i can't believe i've known him for almost three years now). i don't know.

i spent the last year getting rid of it all,
you know?
and then i just spent this weekend alone.
house sitting, of course, but alone for the most part, realizing i've come along quite a bit
and all that self reflection crap...

but really:

why does it always manage to have to take me to the point of fucking myself over before i get the idea that i have to change? probably because being stubborn will never be something that will change soon.


maybe i'll talk to him again.
maybe i won't.

and we ask many questions like children often do.

dear cape, do you remember

how i never felt more at home? i promise i will come back home to the other ocean.

if i could keep all my secrets held in once place:

i would keep them in the secret bay.