People said boys and girls could never be friends.
Not just friends. Not forever.
I thought we could prove them wrong.
Turns out we were on the wrong page
All along. All along.
Each time you told me I was beautiful
did you mean it at all?
I’m sorry for double-guessing you.
How do you think I feel when you say
that all those long hours on the phone
were calculated minutes
as you tried to worm your way into my heart.
I’m sorry I needed to reevaluate you.
I’m sorry you feel the need to blow up,
get in my face when I told you that
I don’t feel the same, never will.
I’m sorry I can’t see the friend
I used to know in your face.
I’m sorry that you wasted 3 years on me.
I’m sorry that you felt like you needed to.
And I still don’t think they were wasted.
Even if you aren’t the person I thought you were.
We had good memories, didn’t we?
God, this sounds like a breakup doesn’t it?
What will I say next?
It’s not you, it’s me?
Because it totally fucking is you.
We were friends.
I repeated it to you over and over.
You murmured it back to me
Again and again.
And I’m sorry you fell for me.
I’m sorry that you brought me flowers.
I’m sorry that you prepared for hours.
I’m sorry that you tried to kiss me.
I’m sorry you got angry.
I’m sorry you slammed your fist into the wall
letting it rain showers of plaster.
I’m sorry you yelled at me
Calling me a nogoodcockteaseslut.
I’m sorry you thought I was falling for you.
I’m sorry you didn’t realize I wanted to be friends.
Just friends. Bestfriends, maybe.
But most of all I’m sorry that you feel like I owe you
Kisses for every time you smiled at poor, poor me.
Dates for every single time I insisted we go Dutch.
In number of stripteases for every time you wiped my tears.
A loan to be repaid in sleep-installments.
And I’m sorry.
I’m sorry we’re not friends.