How the Others Grow Up

We learn from society.

"Jonny, when you're about middle school age, 

you'll start to get special feelings for girls."

Or the other option.

"Jane, when you're about middle school age, 

you'll start to get special feelings for boys."

No one tells you how the others grow up.

We have to figure it out ourselves.

I went dumbstruck around this classmate. 

There was something magnetic about her.

I wanted to get to know her, be her friend.

Once we were great friends. 3rd grade.

Of course, this was 6th grade.

I was still innocent and knew nothing helpful.

I tried to befriend her.

We wrote letters to each other for a few weeks.

It was fun, and I thought I had made her my friend.

But then our friendship structure failed.

I don't know what went wrong.

I never did anything.

But I couldn't talk to her anymore easily.

She made me too uncomfortable.

I wanted to make conversation, but fell silent.

Maybe... May..be... I liked her?

No couldn't be, could it?

But I never wanted to kiss her.

I didn't have interested in sex then/knew much about it.

But I did want to be around her.

I wanted her attention.

I was somewhat jealous others got along with her better.

I didn't know what to think.

No one prepares you for it.

You find it yourself.

Distraction

Dislike is easier to feel than sadness.

I'd rather vent about an old wound than listen to a current bruise.

It makes it easier the events are unrelated.

I love home.

What happens when home is suppose to be more than one place?

Home is where the heart is right? Where family is.

No.

Home is where you are comfortable.

It needs no people.

It only needs the feeling.

And right now I'm not there.

So turning my back on sadness,

I confront old feelings yet to be dealt with.

Bad Blood Under Old Scars

Once we were friends.

Once I would take your side till the end.

Once I realized the end is already come and gone.

Used to be I'd never admit this.

Used to be I'd never try to be mean to you.

Used to be is no more.

Now you are just "that straight girl".

Now I don't feel so friendly.

Now I am nice to you for diplomatic reasons.

I've been good, kept you from being ostracized.

I've been nice, kept peace after you fall apart and deal insults.

I've been more than fair, kept your reputation as it is without this information.

You said yourself you're not a good friend sometimes. 

Perhaps it would've been better to tell me to stay away because you rather not hurt me.

But instead you led me on, and I so willingly followed.

Shame on me then.

I did have my own purpose though, it wasn't completely blind.

And I stuck around afterwards,
In part to prove I didn't like you only because I once fell for you.

So I think this is an unofficial goodbye.

Goodbye friend, N.