His playing was fragile-tainted with guilt and heartache. I couldn't listen anymore. I didn't want to. But as his fingers licked the keys, I wondered: Why? Why does it have to be like this?

This piece of passion and retrospect was twisted with hate, all feelings of guilt replaced by the slipping blame that ran in his heart, taking over his mind. Hatred for him. For what he did to his own son. I didn't understand. I couldn't. But I knew why... why his playing sounded bitter sweet till the very last chord that he played.

The unstoppable need to play. That if he didn't he would suffocate-that if he couldn't release the overwhelming passion inside him that he would burst... and lose his entire existence. Of what he was to be called.

All of a sudden I knew. I had discovered fresh feelings, feelings that weren't new but buried deep inside me waiting to be defined with a word.

Warm.

--A piece I wrote for Venus Capriccio.

It was a smooth lie.
One that could of been smoother, she thought.
What was she to do now--cry?
Nah. She was not going to be caught.
Not this time.

She won't hold on, any longer.
She's hardened. Not soft. Not delicate. Not anymore.
What happened could be more wronger.
All of this is a bore.
No more holding back.

No more protecting your stupid feelings in guilt.
No more expecting calls,
No more grabbing the hilt,
No more imaginary trips in the mall.
No more you. And I'm glad.

I think it's true, though.
Despite all the hope,
I hate you.
Quick--wash your mouth with soap!

You hoped differently,
You wanted to repair everything--put the pieces back.
It wasn't a lie. Not essentially.
But you shouldn'--couldn't. You left it on the rack.
You gave up. Asshole.

That velvet softness--that definite love,
No longer exists.
And it's you I'll be free of.
But these feelings persist.
I'll get it straight: I hate you. Fuck you. You wronged me. I admitted all I did wrong. You fucked me over and did everything I hated. Everything that hurt me the most. Lied to me. Told me so many damn lies.

And I don't deserve this.
I don't deserve you.
It's not that I'll miss...
I just--I deserve better-it's true.
Better than you.

Better than someone who lies to me about who they see, who they like.
Better than someone who ditches me countless times when I stay up for hours and hours just to comfort them.
Better than someone who takes advantage of me and expects me to come running back.
Better than someone who--after all that happened--has the nerve to tell me to contact them. Do it your fucking self.
Better than someone who didn't forget me for a stupid boy or girl.
Better than someone who took my friends.

Better from someone whom... whom I loved.
Better from someone who continued to make miserable and pathetic promises.
Better from someone who I idolized.
Better from someone who I trusted. I trusted you. And you betrayed me by forgetting me, and throwing me away when I needed you. Nice job. Countless times.
Better from someone (s) who were supposed to be my best friends.

Best friends don't fall for one another and forget everyone else.
Best friends don't take each other's friends by hanging out with them more than you do. Knowing you were about to call them.
Best friends don't do the thing that they know their best friend is terrified of.
Best friends don't take your heart, your affections and your love just to stomp on it.
Best friends don't ignore the warnings or cries that you give each time your heart cracks a little more.

Best friends don't do the following:
lie, betray you, fall for your other best friend just to forget you, take your friends, make them forget you, make you become a thirdwheel in your relationship, don't be a thirdwheel, take advantage of you, don't ignore you when you say: What you're doing is hurting me, don't ditch you the second someone new fucking comes along.

Someone new, whom you knew first. Who you took time to help first.

They don't stay up in calls with them all night, when you need them or want them, just after meeting them.
They don't continue to do that, even after you asked them to tone it down. Best friends don't lie to you. Best friends do not lie to you about who they're talking to. Even when it's your supposed boyfriend, and your other best friend.

Both of which told you: I'm not talking to anyone else. Don't worry. I just had to do something.
And reply 30 minutes later.

And you get the leftovers when your best friend stays up talking to your other best friend. They can only stay awake for ten minutes before falling asleep on you. Because they didn't think that you were there in the morning, waiting for them.


I'll tell you what best friends should do:
Know who is first, and last. Try to balance.
Try to understand. Try to listen. Try to be there. I always tried. Even if I couldn't . I got around to it. I threw everything to the dust for you. Because I thought you were important. You were never willing to give back, were you?
They understand boundaries.
They know you.
They don't jump to conclusions because they just know. 
Hell. I knew when you were crying before you knew it.
They're supposed to love you. Act like it.
Try to do the right thing.
Try to stop being so flighty and be a friend.
Stop being comforted and start comforting. Not everything is about you.

I loved you. Always will. But I hate you, too.

Because you were everyone else. You are everyone else to me. Because you did what everyone else did. Once. You were different. I wish you stayed that way. I wish you didn't get so infatuated with him. I wish you didn't take advantage of me. I wish you didn't 'take' my friends. Part of it's my fault, too. But you never listened to me.

And that's your fault.
Thanks for the fun times. Sometimes I forget the bad times happened. I'll try to think about good times. So I can stop wishing for you.

You did me wrong. I did you wrong. But at least I did what a best friend should do. I put you first. I was there for you. Stayed up for hours listening to you cry and even offered to talk to your brother for you. Because I cared. I loved you. I told you what to do when things got really bad. I always listened. No matter what. I loved him, too. But not as much as I loved you. I never threw you away. Not once. I never ignored you when I met him. I talked about him a lot. But I was still there for you. You were my best friend. I knew that. So I didn't.

But tell me:
What happened to being best friends?

I need to write something beautiful. Something that isn't filled with hurt. Something filled with beauty and passion-and love. I wish I could write some of the pretty poetry I used to write. But I have no inspiration.
So I'll write on beauty. This is sort of a rivalmance with Anders and Hawke... but I'm a bit awkward with my writing now. Not obvious at all. Pfftt. Oh, Anders.
-----
Damp, wet, deep soft.
Memories flood and love concedes,
Telling me-satisfying me with all that I need.

Soft skin and tender kisses,
All of which render me listless.
No energy to fight, no hate to argue,
All anger dissipates, fading to blue.

Love fills me, hearts pound.
You are with me-we are bound.
We are one, lost in one another.
Freedom is a myth, but I don't need it.
I can't run, or hide.
I can simply be.

It's a comfort, it is,
To be with you.
To know I have someone,
Someone true.
Someone who loves me, who cares.

I'm not afraid. Not with you here.
I'm not afraid... because I know I don't have a thing to fear.
I trust. I trust you, and who you are-what you feel. 


That smile, as a moan escapes my lips.
That warm feeling near my hips.
It's all new; it's all different.
I don't understand why I'm so insistent.

You're here, and I'm here.
You're here, and you're near.
Getting closer, growing closer.

So close, so fast,
I forget the past.
All the arguments and rivalries that drove us to tears and frustrations,
Remembering all the past smiles-past indications.
That things can work.
That things can change.


Even as I clung to you, helpless with need.
Even though we'd argued just before.
I trust you.
I love you.
And that's the part of it that I understand.
The only part I need to understand.


The hateful comments, and passionate apologies.
All of it. Was part of you-part of me.
And I'm glad for it.
I'm glad for you, and I'm glad for me.
Someone will try and tear us apart.
But I'll be here, as you'll stay near.

I have you.
And that's all I need.

Was it meant to hurt?
It stung. It most definitely stung.

I don't believe anything anyone says anymore.
Until someone stops lying to me.
Until they stop hurting me, and making my heart ache.
Until they listen to me.
Until they decide... that they were wrong. That they should of listened.
Because I ended up hurt, because they didn't listen. They didn't care.

Why should I believe you?
You, who only speaks of fond memories given by someone else?

I won't. It's a lie. You lied. Just like everyone else.

Because out of everyone I've met. Every damn person whom I thought wouldn't break my heart...
Broke it in the worst possible way they could.

By being the same.

So don't tell me you're different.
Don't tell me that you love me.
I'll just laugh at you.
But I'm not laughing at you, as much as I'm laughing at me.

Because I believed people like you. I believed you. And you were everyone.

So don't tell me you're someone.
And I won't tell you either.
'Someones' just break your heart.

I still get nervous.
I still get jittery.
But it doesn't mean anything.
Because I feel like that when I'm in trouble, too.

No more love for you.
I don't love you anymore.
But you were someone.
And even if it's past tense, that'll always be the case, whether I like it or not.
I wish I could simply hate you for no reason.
But there were too many good times, I guess.

I don't know if I want things to be how they used to be.
Personally, I don't think that'd work anyway.
I shake and my heart beats. But it's nothing. Don't worry about it.
Though, it may sting unlikely enough, you're nothing to me now.

Who I'm talking about might be a mystery.
But I know who the person in my mind is.
The person I relate this to.

It'd be easier if we could stay friends. Forget anything happened.
Forget you hurt me. Forget I hurt you.
That's how I'd like it to be, sometimes.
But that's childish.
Running away doesn't get me anywhere.
Facing my problems does, though.

"You're okay, right? With this?"
I'd like to ask that.
I'd like it to be the truth.
But what I like and what the facts are, are completely different.
I can't run away.

So I decided to throw you back in the pot.
Because if I don't. I know for sure, things will never change.
If I lose anything, I'll just throw you out.
Simple.

But I don't want to gain anything from you but resolution.
Just know that.

Why should I spare your feelings when you've clearly never spared mine?
I can't get over my bitterness.
I can't get over how you broke my heart.
I can't get over how you never thought you were wrong, despite the apologies.
I can't get over how stupid I was.

So in a split second. Without realizing it.
I was slowly hardened.
In a game; one sentence hardens the character.
You don't have to mean it. Just click.
And they're hardened.

It's like that in life, too. You don't have to mean what you do.
But the effects last a long time.
It's no longer pretty poetry, filled with sentimental feelings that's written.
It's angry and sad.
And sometimes I wish it weren't so brutally honest.
Even though the one person who wanted the truth was me.

Sometimes, I wonder:
Had I not known... would it still have hurt so much?
But I knew. From the very beginning. I warned myself. I told them.
And all trust was thrown into oblivion.
Because it obviously didn't mean enough.

I loved you.
And it was thrown into my face.
I can't say I'll never again. Because I don't want that. And I deserve better.
I'm not going to give up my life because I was foolish and trusted people I knew were weak.
Trusted people whom were already hurting me even as I told them. Before and after.

It hurt me, when I found out my friends liked you better.
That you crossed the line.
That you did everything you said you wouldn't.

But I can't forgive you.
I wish I could.
But nothing is ever going to be the same.
Because I'm not sure if I love you enough to even act like I do.

You make me happy, when I feel too blue.
You don't need anything; I just need you.
When I'm feeling happy, I wish you did, too.
I can't describe the feeling in my stomach.
It's this light, fluttery feeling. Like nothing in the world could ever be a problem.

I don't know how it came about,
But I'm not quite sure, that I want out.
It makes me nervous, but... All I want is you.