The bigger the fire, the sooner it’ll burn out.
And I should be accustomed to it by now, but still I found myself with another third degree burns.
Yours, this time.
Maybe I should have known that anything that started with someone coming out of the blue and sneaking under my walls to offer comfort would never end well. It never did.
Maybe then I wouldn’t end up biting the dust once again.
It’s inevitable that I’m getting tired, then.
Tired of ruining friendship and losing companionship.
Tired of opening up only to be abandoned, of getting temporary comfort only for it to slip out of my fingers again.
Tired of blurred lines between friends and maybe more, blurred lines between harmless affection and underlying tension for wants.
I’m getting tired of the fun and games that wound up with me losing my mind.
So I’m done, I guess. I’m done jumping straight to the furnace and incinerating myself to ashes.
I’m done giving too much only to be given so little.
I’m done having fall outs because somebody messed with my mind.
And I’m seriously done with you, and everyone else, putting up walls and setting a distance because you thought I won’t be able to handle it, after all the feelings. I’ve had enough of people lying that things will go back to the way it used to be just to pack up and scamper away.
That’s not what friends do. And since it seems like your cost had outweighed your benefit, well, I don’t need another friend who would only ruin me.
À la mort,
The girl who had enough of playing with fire