Sort of a Protest Blog

I got home late that night. She called me on my cellphone and probably heard my stupid voicemail greeting. She said her parents weren’t home and that she missed me. Messing with my head again, she was.

I know we’ve had our ins and outs but yeah… I want to talk. I know you love me. Come over, my parents aren’t home.

My phone asked me if I wanted to delete the message and I immediately pressed seven. I don’t fucking love you, I never have and never will. It’s a stupid game we’ve played for 2 years. I knew her as a friend but not a close one. We met at a mall, Metrotown actually. It was summer, we watched a movie. I think it was a Harry Potter movie. It doesn’t matter.

I actually thought about going over but I didn’t. I went out for dinner with my parents instead. I couldn’t think of anything else. I’ve been so preoccupied about everything. Make the grades, have fun, keep everything together. But she’s really messed me up again. I’ve been with other girls before, better girls. But she was different. Maybe it’s because she’s fucked up like I can be sometimes. I just don’t care anymore.

My head was still killing me but a lot of things were.

Maybe all I’m supposed to get are the bitches, the psychos, and the mindfuckers. I think I don’t want to play anymore. I’m leaving.

Anton Bus Stop Chronicles