The most important quality in a boyfriend is knowing how to be a best friend. Any guy can say that he loves you. Any guy can say that you’re special. Any guy can give you kisses and hug you around the waist but not all guys can understand you like a best friend should. Best friends share secrets, they tell you things that no one else knows except you. They are the ones that understand you the most and they are the ones that you should treasure most in life because they will always be there for you. And for a guy to have a quality like that is just amazing because sometimes a girl needs someone who can both understand and love her at the same time.
Sharing makes everything better. A cup of coffee, I would have loved to share it with you. Super sweet large milk teas with cream froth (which I hate), I would have loved sharing it with you. A bag of churros with chocolate dip, I’d let you have more. My time, it’s with you I’d like to share too.
I close my eyes and I let my body shut itself down and I let my mind wander. It wanders to a familiar place. A place that I don’t talk about or acknowledge exists. A place where there is only me. A place that I hate. I am alone. Alone here and alone in the world. Alone in my heart and alone in my mind. Alone everywhere, all the time, for as long as I can remember. Alone with my family, alone with my friends, alone in a room full of people. Alone when I wake, alone through each awful day, alone when I finally meet the blackness.
I am alone in my horror. Alone in my horror. I don’t want to be alone. I have never wanted to be alone. I fucking hate it. I hate that I have no one to talk to, I hate that I have no one to call, I hate that I have no one to hold my hand, hug me, tell me everything is going to be all right. I hate that I have no one to share my hopes and dreams with, I hate that I no longer have any hopes or dreams, I hate that I have no one to tell me to hold on, that I can find them again.
I hate that when I scream, and I scream bloody murder, that I am screaming into emptiness. I hate that there is no one to hear my scream and that there is no one to help me learn how to stop screaming. I hate that what i have turned to in my loneliness lives in a pipe or a bottle. I hate that what I have turned into my loneliness is killing me, has already killed me, or will kill me soon. I hate that I will die alone. I will die alone in my horror.
More than anything all I ever wanted is to be close to someone. More than anything, all I have ever wanted is to feel as if I wasn’t alone.
Forever Alone by James Frey, A Million Little Pieces