Tonight, I had my face dug inside my palms. I won't let myself see another more tear, another more broken smile, another more missing pieces. Slowly, I lift my head look myself to the mirror and smile. "Smile to yourself like you mean." It didn't completely made me feel better, but it was slightly better. A nano percentage of better is better than no better. So here I am, determined with no broken smile picking up my pieces and being better than yesterday.
With the situation, I'm cool with it. Well slightly.
Who on earth wants a friend who takes care of the distance, counts every second to reply, wont make eye contact, takes care of the comfort zone, barely converse with you and takes extra precautions around you. It makes you feel like a freak. Like you are contaminated with a disastrous zombie flu. All of the sudden you have to be extra careful with what you do, what you say, what you dress, what you respond, what you look at, who youre hanging out with. No more comfort.
that's not a friend right?
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