I used to be ...

I used to be ..... your first text every morning, your last text every night

I used to be ..... the one you chatted with for hours every weekend

I used to be ..... the one who thought you were special

I used to be ..... the one who wanted us to be forever

Well, i started this off thinking there would be some kind of poetry in those phrases.  But they're just sad statements, and there's nothing to lead into.  After all that, and then "the confession", I  became "the other woman"  - not by choice.  And truthfully, I should be angry as hell.  but how do you get angry with someone you care about?  Maybe pity, feel sorry for a man who has a life that isn't a real life at all.  Maybe toss in pathetic - quit whining about life and like Helen says "Shit. Or get off the pot."  Life is meant to be lived. Or maybe its all been bullshit - and all I am is 'just another girl'

Another time ... Another place ...
Another girl ... Another face ...

She wanted something else,

something different, something more.

Passion and romance,

or maybe quiet conversations in candlelit rooms,

or perhaps something as simple as not being second.

That's all she wanted.

Is that too much to ask?

I know I will never stop caring; I know that I would like to stay friends. 

But. I am having trouble letting go of the feelings I should never have for him.

The last three days have been very rough, I am not sleeping well, 

and all I want to do nothing at all.  I spent yesterday laying around all day,

and wondering things that are none of my business.

Today, I am forcing myself to keep busy, but its busy work.  

Maybe that's the best thing -- keep busy and forget.