Trust is Not a One Way StreetMature

For the guy who left me alone when I needed someone to talk to.

Last night
I was intrigued with the idea that you cared about me.
I've been debating if it was really worth all those times
I spent with my finger over your name
in my contacts to call.
Each time I had to convince myself that I should never rely on you
considering that we became indifferent since I confessed my confusion for leading you on, in the most innocent way.
I didn't think you would just cut off all the emotional bonds we had.
Cause even though we were just friends in my mind
I was the saving grace in yours
and I hope to god that one day you could save me
from myself too.
But I resisted to open up the deepest parts of me.
That's not what you do when someone else is spilling their heart,
to overpower their issues with your own pathetic problems that couldn't compete.
So I kept my mouth shut,
and listen intensively.
I always wanted to be the first person you would come
running to when something went wrong.
Not because I envy your other friends
but because I thought if anyone could understand you
It would be me.
This was nothing short of a therapist session.
You trusted me to your core.
Or at least that's what you made me believe.
Yet when our friendship strained
and the yelling became more about
what our expectations for one another couldn't match up with,
I knew more than ever
that it was all based on a lie.
I haven't seen you for a while
and I don't know what it is that I miss
but I do know that I can't find one thing I fully have faith in
from all the words that you swore to have spoken to only me
without thinking about it twice.
So there I was, an emotional wreck.
With the lump of a pill to hard to swallow
and trembling fingers as I scroll over your name
as I pressed, actually pressed the call button.
I could barely hear the rings over my own shatter breathing.
It ringed not once, not twice, but four fucking times
when I decided that I shouldn't be calling you.
Pressing the end button as makeup smear tears fell onto the screen.
You question why I called you.
Was it with concern? pity? Or was it because you felt obligated to ask
what was wrong
as a way of repaying back for all those times I have asked you.
I didn't want to open up and act like I needed you, but in that moment
I did and all I could hear from your voice inside my head was
criticism and annoyance.
And It hit me hard in the pit of my stomach,
that I was just another girl to you with the same cliché story
of being in the middle of a nervous breakdown
that can only been given temporary relief from cigarette kisses
all in this poor attempt to seek your unwilling attention.
When your replies became silent
for whatever reason it might of been
It killed a part of my inside.
Cause I never would of left you alone
If you were in my place.
Friends we are,
but I guess I only can get that kind of satisfaction
If we were something more.
No longer will I believe you anymore.
Next time when you tell me
that I can trust you with anything,
I'll simply ignore the far fetch attempts of concern
and trade them in for a more permanent solution.
It won't leave me any better off, but at least it will always be there, whenever I truly need it.

The End

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