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We could never be friends. I'm sorry. But we couldnt. Sometimes I think we could, and sometimes I open up to you. But then I realize that that's exactly how I feel. Open. When I tell you things that I would only tell my closest friends, I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a vast field. I feel exposed. At first, its a brilliant idea to tell you things. But when I do, I dont feel the same relief as when I tell my friends.
Yesterday, my fish died. I think you know more about my fish than anyone else. You knew about the irony behind his brilliant name. You knew what I had to go through to get him. You knew I didnt get him for christmas. You knew the second I got him for my birthday. You knew he didnt like me at first. You knew how to fix it. You knew about the time that he tried to fight with his reflection. It only made sense that I wanted you to know that he was "no longer."
I tried to talk to you all day. To tell you the news. It was important to me. Until I got the chance to talk to you, I talked to other people. One said "We have to go to the fish market right now! Screw class, we have to get Adriana a new fishie!" Another said "Here - to make you feel better, read this poem I wrote about you." (It did. So much that it made me cry even more than I was.) Someone else gave me the most sympathetic look when I bore the news - a look that made me know that even if they didnt truly understand why I was upset over a fish, they understood that the fish meant a lot to me. And because of that they felt the pain - if you will - with me. Someone else told me that my fish was probably playing with her cat and dog in animal heaven. And when I told that person the whole story - about how yesterday was perfect up until the last second when my fish died, that person reminded me that technically my fish died this morning. (At 12:30-ish.) That person assured me that yesterday could still be the perfect day. It was today that was sad.
Not that I was expecting you to say or do any of this. I guess I was just expecting you to be a little more sympathetic. I guess I was expecting you, of all people, to understand. But it was proven today, that I didnt need someone to understand the fish - which you did. I needed someone to understand me. And the people who I talked to before you understood me. I'm not sure you did.
I told you and the first thing you said was "You killed your fish?!"
I was telling you the story and you had a smirk on your face, like you found it amusing.
I said, in the midst of my 300 words per minute rant, "And you're probably wondering why I felt the need to tell you this, but I just wanted to tell you in person."
You shrugged like you were wondering why I felt the need to tell you this.
You dont get it.
And, I suppose, I shouldnt expect you to.
But a part of me did expect you to.
And who knows - maybe you're smirk and nonchalance about the situation was youre way of trying to console me by playing it off like it was no big deal. By pretending like I shouldnt be upset.
Or maybe thats just me making up excuses for you, due to the fact that I want to be your friend.
Maybe you really dont care.
After I walked away from you I tried to remember why I even wanted to tell you in the first place.
I couldnt remember.
I want to be your friend.
But you and I are so different.
I'm sorry for writing about you in my blog. I swore I would never.
RIP Alpha The Beta Fish.
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2 comments:
Call me and tell me everything!
Boys are ridiculous. and we understand you. that's all that you need.
:D
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