I can't stop thinking about a friend of mine. Whether it's because I am still angry at them for the hurt they caused me, or because I am worried about them, or because I love them helplessly, I cannot tell. Right now, it's hard to distinguish between wanting to scream at them, or wanting scoop them up in my arms and tell them to be okay. Being beside them is overwhelming and paralyses me. Our conversations are faltering and short-lived, our mannerisms awkward and hesitant.
Unlike my friend, I do not know how to burn bridges. I am too sentimental to sever connections with someone I am fond of. It's unbearable.
What hurts me the most is her revealing that every beautiful story she told me about herself, from her recurring dreams about death to her crying along to Sufjan Stevens on a bus, was fabricated. Because, to me, it means that I have lost her. Really lost her. The person she was to me, the troubled, sensitive, dynamic, amusing, angst-filled, naive, adoring firework of a person she created for me is gone, and she's doing everything she can to destroy that person. Even small things, like nicknames, have been dismissed. There's a wilderness between us now. I do not know whether the loss I feel is over losing this friend, or losing my idea of her.
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