The One I Should Have Stayed Friends With

When I got angry I'd cry and call him a wall. He never did anything, I'd say. He'd let people do whatever they want to him and not react. That's probably why people gravitate towards him. They could project whatever idea or emotion onto him as if he'd care, and if all they needed was a one-sided relationship, then all they'd need was him. But I'm ungrateful. Ultimately, a wall would be a wall and a wall wouldn't move. Or care. Or love. 

I told him he needed to learn to have feelings. He said he did. His peaks and troughs just weren't as volatile as mine. I told him he needed to actually say what he felt. He was too quiet. He said for all my loudness and drama, I never let my real feelings show either. 

I didn't want to admit he was right. 

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The One That Ruined My Life

An ex boyfriend used to get frustrated with me really easily. He'd scream and yell and threaten me so much that by 3am I'd be too damn tired to defend myself and just let him win. I learnt to cope with problems by thinking everything through. In my head. By the time he'd finally ask me what was wrong, I'd have already reached a mental conclusion and an explanation just seemed redundant, so I'd just say it was nothing.

We fought and screamed and cried and kissed constantly. I thought that was passion. 

In retrospect, it wasn't.

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The One Who Eventually Got Bored of Me

We were high when I said it. My face was on his cheek. His thigh between my legs. My right arm resting on his chest. His right hand lightly brushing against my bra strap.

He got mad when I said he didn't care about anyone.

By then I knew I'd go to him when I didn't want to feel anymore. When I didn't want anyone to tell me everything will be okay. Or worse, how to make everything okay again. Someone who could understand that I didn't want to make them understand.

I can't remember how I phrased it.


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"Are you the eldest child? You seem very independent.", a stranger said to me that morning.


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In school they always made us feel bad for not calling our parents every night. I'd overhear my peers having their nightly conversations. Small talk, casual, friendly, empty. I never called my parents. They never called me back.


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"I don't mind. I'm just shocked is all."

"Yeah, I don't understand why you did it so suddenly. Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why do I need to tell you everything?"

"You never mentioned anything about it before"

"I did tell you. Multiple times. It's not my fault you don't listen to me."

30 second silence.

"Anyway, about your brother..."


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The One That Never Was

My phone was buzzing constantly, reminding me every 30 seconds of all the responsibilities I'm trying to run away from. I'm starting to see a trend here. A self-fulfilling prophecy.

The thought of calling him struck my mind for a fleeting moment. Of course, the idea was ludicrous. He wouldn't pick up as quickly as he used to. He wouldn't stay up for hours and entertain me with stories of his childhood or details about his hobbies so I wouldn't have to deal with whatever hole I dug myself into that time.

He'd probably tell me not to call him again, like he did last time. Or he wouldn't even pick up at all.

My battery reached 0%. And like I learnt to do with my thoughts and emotions, I decided to let it stay dead for the night.