I've done it again
It's hard to shake the feeling that I've messed up. That I've opened my mouth when I shouldn't. Even if I've made part of it right, I can't undo it. The problem with most of my "crimes" is that they are done. Finished. I can't go back and edit out the little parts that I don't like, or delete them altogether. Because of that, I'm not going to edit this, or ever delete it. I don't feel I deserve such a thing.
I suppose part of it could be that it's late. Very late, actually. I should have been in bed hours ago. I'm sure tomorrow I'll be okay; satisfied with what I did to repair the damage and convinced that the original damage was not that bad. But tonight, I don't feel that way. Tonight, I feel awful. I made someone cry. Then I lied to get them to stop. I rarely lie. But, to be honest, the part that I feel worst about is the fact the I said anything. I should have kept my mouth shut. I feel cruel. To add to this, I now believe something that I didn't before - that she meant part of what she said. I didn't want her to mean it. I still don't. I am no one to say that she does not deserve to mean it - but she doesn't. And I don't want her to. I hope, with everything that's left from all previous hopes, (how much is there?) that she didn't mean it and that I'm reading too much into it.
How can I say something in what I think is a nice way and still hurt them horribly? How can I hate someone who looks up to me? How can I hate someone and still feel guilty for hurting them? My only consolation is that I no longer hate her only behind her back. She knows now that I do not like her.
No, that's a lie. I'm not about to lie to you too. I have other consolations. Like the fact that this in itself is barely a part of my life. Like the fact that I still have M&M's in my room. Like the fact that he doesn't care that I messed up. Neither does God. (In passing, isn't that kind of cool?)
So here I am, about ten minutes after I started this thing. Ten minutes that I could have been doing homework, wasted on telling you what I feel like about something that I haven't fully explained to you. And maybe that's not such a bad thing.
Tomorrow, I'll wake up (on time, I hope), go to school, and think very little of it again. I'll focus on what's ahead. Tonight, I'm listening to the past tell me of my mistakes.