Everyday Thoughts. by Gabby Follin (e book reader free txt) 📖

her eyes slowly to see his face, only to make sure she wasn’t in a dream and that it wasn’t the one she loved doing this.

To her disappointment, it wasn’t him and it was the boy who got what he wanted.

She looked at him in horror and all he said was, you like that?

A quiet uh huh was moaned back as he continued and her eyes went closed again.

The rest doesn’t need explaining but the thing that does is why?

She sat in his car completely clothed waiting for him to get in and to take her home, but she held her head in immediate shame and regret.

Tears wanted to fall from her eyes but she wouldn’t allow it to alarm him that something was wrong.

He got in with a joyful smile and switched the car on.

The drive to her house was silent and shameful, at least for her it was. He parked at the end of her street and told her to text him later, while she knew secretly that, that was not going to happen. He tried to grab her hand and assumingly kiss her, but she was already out the door and had slammed it in his face.

She rushed to her home and opened the door calmly, she went to her room without giving her parents a hello and sat down on her bed.

Staring blankly at the wall she replayed what had just happened in the past hour and a half in her mind. A lone tear full of salt and regret fell from her face and dropped onto her bed.

There were no tears after that, but the only thing going through her mind was, how would she be able to face him again?

As the thought crossed her mind, she got a text from him asking if she wanted to hang out again tomorrow.

She ignored him and didn’t even think about where she would be tomorrow.

It was a horrible mistake. Regretful and shameful.

She wondered why she let the grubby hands of this boy touch her, caress her secret parts that are for a man that actually loves her.

It pains her that it wasn’t him, it makes her shameful for what she let happen.

 

For the rest of that day, she lies in bed staring at nothingness while thoughts of shame and regret go through her head. She falls asleep wishing that it wasn’t him and that it was her adored and ended up dreaming sweet dreams of him instead.

Sleep it off, she says. You’ll be fine tomorrow.

It’s the same shit, but at least the next day it’ll be easier to fake.

 

June 16, 2019. 10:09 p.m.

 finished

 

 

Words were said that needed to be told but the feeling of it being left truncated remained. Affinity was felt for you but as you began to show your true colors to the person that was me, there was then the inauguration of loathing your plain existence.

I was endeavoring the kind of person I wanted to be for you, but your toxicity made all of my effort pointless and in the end utterly useless.

Was it in your intention to injure me the ways you did? Did you always put me down to have yourself be presented as dominant and strong? Poking at the intricate arts of my insecurities, as I convinced myself, to make you feel superior about your own.

It was wicked the way you disported your games, neglecting the decisions and things that really mattered. Only to occupy yourself with the attention of people who never liked you anyways.

Portraying your carelessness into simple and distasteful symphonies, trying to prove you’ve moved on when in reality you were camouflaging your true feelings and thoughts from people like me. It doesn’t work when people can already see right through the person you really are.

Your conjectures were ridiculous, the oblviousness to how idiotic you seem when you pick fights you can never win, especially against me. Do you ever consider? Do you gather? Do you ever do anything right?

Candidly, you were never the qualities and the straightforwardness you always portrayed and said you were. You proved that to me out in the open, so obvious how you showed how fake and unloyal you really are. All you had was the simple job of being a friend. I must say, I gave up and stopped striving to be good, but you did long before I did. It was only the domino effect, you fell so I did too.

It was never enough my lectures on looking for red flags, the exercises I took, the struggle to help you achieve happiness and satisfaction was nugatory. The ignorance you showed, when I only shed light to guide you to better places. The words and personal experiences I allocated for you, only to tell you not to perform the same idiotic act I did once before. I have committed these sins, but I shared fragments of them to only prevent you from making the same mistakes I did. In the end, all of my information and words were unimportant to you, and silly mistakes were made to cause horror that I ended picking up the pieces for.

All in all, only one question remains for you that I severely want an answer to. Why were you the way you were to me? It seems as if you can sleep soundly at night knowing you caused misery to someone who was only trying to love you when no one else did. I wasn’t perfect, no one is, but it seems as if all the people who are way less perfect than me, you show more adoration for them than you ever did to me.

But soon I came to realize, all these people who claim to be your friends,  they’re just as fake as you, and that’s simply the reasoning why you think they’re there for you.

When in the real world, the second you do something they don’t like, they’ll drop you for good as if you didn’t matter to them at all.

Just as you did to me.

 

July 6, 2019. 1:42 a.m.

Shoe prints left in the mud outside in the front yard. 

Studying them, realizing it was a pace of thought. 

Was she thinking?

About what? 

 

Thank you. 

Appreciative of the thought that went into your lovely note, but no clue what to do with it now. 

Nice comments and wishes of luck were pasted onto a page, and I thank you. 

But what was the point of it? 

 

The mud will dry and the shoe prints made will become permanent until ruined with rain or car tires. 

Left behind the pace of thought, forgetting about the whole process completely as new problems and situations come to light. 

Same old, same old. 

 

Unnecessary stress, the lack of care and growing is fickle. 

Cherry picking your moments and utterly disregarding any others. 

You're not the member of this family you were chosen to be. 

 

New shoe prints will be left, not only in the mud spot in the front yard but all over town. 

As she makes her way through busy streets and quiet ones, a track, the pace of thought will begin again. 

Thinking about these new upcomings, how to deal with them and her personal feelings towards them. 

 

It came to you. 

Determined and chiseled. I loved your face. 

Don't make me fall, that would be a mistake. 

 

The process goes on and on for days, weeks, months, years. 

It never stops, it's continuing, I can predict it will forever. 

The complaints, the talking, the crying, the love, everything goes around and around in fucking circle. 

 

 

July 18, 2019. 4:29 a.m.

good luck, me

 

Eyes peeled but tired, regular sleep deprived night. 

Was she expecting it to happen again? 

Obviousness grew as she got higher and higher, only trying to see if the things that saddened her most would disappear as soon as the smoke did. 

 

Soon enough her problems were resolved, at least for a while, she stares at the dark ceiling with Lofi type music in the background. 

Floating into her own mind, memories of better times came to light and the worries went away. 

She was happy, happy to see how happy she was. 

Wish that she could just go back. 

Innocent, smart little girl that everyone loved, but grew to hate. 

 

Now labeled as a trouble maker, who is the master of telling pretty little lies, not a soul to be found right by her side. 

She was smart, she is. 

But does she even care about being smart anymore?

 

Play it cool, lay low, it'll go to plan if we're sneaky, quiet.

She climbs out the broken window screen for the millionth time this year to go meet a boy who just wants her being. 

She only does it for the cigarettes, he can do whatever he wants as long as she gets to place her lips upon one at the very least. 

 

The rest is a blur that she didn't pay much mind to. 

Only the smoke hovering over her face and the toxins that she breathes willingly into her lungs is what satisfied her.  

 

Are your bones tired? 

Must be, all that sneaking around gets pretty restless. 

Throw in the rag, its worn out just like you. 

 

Call it a night, quit talking to boys who you end up hating next week. 

Find something good instead of looking in the bad. 

All that smoke makes it hard to see. 

 

Good luck to me. 

August 14, 2019. 3:23