I saw you at the coffee shop today. We talked and exchanged a few nice words, like neighbors do.
[If your house burned down, I would stand across the street- watching it burn with you. Maybe I would give you some furniture and maybe I would let you crash on my sofa].
-I feel a bit like an expensive insurance company-
Maybe it's a simple "hello" and "how are you" from your perspective- all is well and you go about your day- not a second thought given to the girl eating the bagel and drinking the orange juice.
But when I see you, I see red. I think red. I see your living room. My regret. The pain I went through that just numbed you to the point of absence.
What a big, festering, bloody mess we made.
You were important. I was important. You were a rebound. I was the same.
We are not friends. Don't even try to pretend.
"You look angry" you say to me now.
"I am just FINE" -most obvious lie. Ever.
I am. I am angry. I am hurt. I am broken.
We aren't friends anymore, kid.
Neighbors. That's how we know each other.
A wave on our way to work.
Someday, I will need to borrow a cup of sugar, can I call you?
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