He asked if we could go back to being friends. I said I was fine with that, but I hinted that we wouldn’t be talking to each other often— or at all, in the worse case scenario. He was adamant about being friends like the good old days, but I was persistent that it wouldn’t be fixed overtime. How stubbornness can get the better of me! But as my stubbornness prevails, so does the reasoning that formulates in the depths of my mind.
He had a new group of friends. In truth, it can be considered the same group of friends that stay with us in the gazebos. The sad truth about it— they were classmates. He has more chances to bond with them, thus creating more exciting experiences. It works the same way for those other friends of mine who are classmates— tighter bonds. Sadly, I’m left in a section wherein no one goes to that gazebo of mine. No one with the same usual group of friends I have. It gets quite lonely and I don’t think he could understand such a pain. As he’s off frolicking with his group of friends, I’m stuck with no one to relate to. He has the same company in and out of class— such an inexistent case for me.
I don’t want to be feeling close (FC) with him and his new friends. A weird feeling takes over me whenever I crash into something I know I’ll never be appreciated in. The part that sucks behind all this— I won’t have his attention. He has a new world wherein I’m in a lower priority of attention giving than others. The time I was once at par with them— it exists no more. I’ve lost the energy to push my way back to where it was. It won’t return to normal.
Yet what is this 7% possibility? The possibility of returning to the good old days seems like a far off dream— a dream I cannot attain. The positive times where we’d talk about the most random things and share problems— at least one-sided-ly. I don’t think it’ll ever return to normal with what I’ve found out about him— what I’ve seen in him and heard from him. It’ll never be like before— at the state of things right now.