Dear Friend,..

I told everyone I hate you. I started believing it, too.
You hurt me, I hurt you.
Somewhere in between these lies I lost it, too.
I thought I'd turn around and say something impressive, like, "I'm afraid it's too late to apologize."
But truly speaking...
I'm afraid I'll always have a soft spot for you.
No matter what, I'll always want to know what you think of a situation too.

I can deny it for the rest of my life, and live caring about you..
Or.
I could admit it right now.
You were a piece of my heart that I lost for a fraction of a moment.
Every guy I crushed on, every time I moved on,
lacked your idiotic comments and ridiculously contagious smile.
At a point I felt so hurt, by me or by you, I'm not too sure.
I stopped caring for a while.
Yes I said mean things, yes I was a bad person,
But the moment you said 'hey' again,
I saw nothing but a friend.

Some people would just make a call,
but you know me, I'm awkward.
Writing is my way of saying what I feel.
And I'm sorry. 

Questions

If seasons can change, why not people?

If people can change, why not habits?

If habits can change, then why not our minds?

If our minds change, why not surroundings?

Everything can change, then what's the big deal about it?

If change is the only constant, then why make a big deal about it?

Everything changes, then why curse them and hate them for it?

I don't like weird people.

Weird people are weird.

People find me weird.

I don't like people that judge.

Does that make me a hypocrite?

The sky is blue in the mornings.

It's orangish something in the evening.

It's dark blue at night sometimes.

Sometimes it's black.

What the heck are astronauts doing up there again?

Say you love a person.

Then you break up with that person.

Then you cry over that person.

Then you try to make that person jealous.

Why all the complications?

If you hate someone,

how can you love that person?

If someone bullies you,

how can you love that person?

If someone is a jerk,

how can you love that person?

Human nature is one damned labyrinth.

It changes with every turn you take.

Every nook and corner will bend out into something different.

Why the heck am I writing down such dumb questions?

The Fruit

There was once a little girl inside,
that didn't have to run and hide,
One that wasn't afraid of the world,
What she felt, she spoke.

She had trust in the world,
She never felt the cold,
She had faith in God,
She had faith that he'd help her do what's hard.

Every little moment, she ceased,
Every little thing, she treasured,
She spread light wherever she went,
And to the things she could do, she knew no end.

One day she went to the tree,
Like a bird, just as free,
Her mother had told her not to eat,
The fruit that hung by the branch, looking so sweet.

She looked at it, and widened her eyes,
In the background, her mother cries,
Don't dear, it's not a good fruit,
She didn't bother to look.

She reached out with her hand,
But couldn't seize it,
She was a little girl, yes,
But determined and stubborn nevertheless.

Her eyes were bright and full of light,
Who knew, it would be the last time,
Somehow the fruit fell into her hand,
Who knew, it would be the last time she would stand.

The bright red fruit that she held,
She took a bite of it, and she felt,
The bright red turn into a dull shade of nothingness,
black takes over as she falls to her knees.

She drops the fruit,
She looks at her hand,
She realizes what's happening,
And lays down on her back.

She looks up at the tree and the sky,
And on her face there's a smile,
She shuts her eyes,
She says a small goodbye.

Just like curiosity killed the cat,
I saw the girl fade,
I saw her trust in the world,
Go away.

Three days later I came back where she once laid,
I didn't see her, I'd seen her fade,
With the tree, lying under it,
I saw the fruit, it had turned grey.