Monday, December 11, 2006

Why can't you?

Why do you do it to yourself?

Why do you feel the need to do it?

Why am I always tense when you're around, wondering whether you're going to make a complete fool of yourself and those around you?

Why can't I just relax and enjoy what is meant to be an enjoyable occassion?

Why do I feel a sense of responsibility for you?

Why do I always breathe a sigh of relief when you leave?

I can't do it anymore. I can't be your friend if it's going to be like this. I have my own shit to deal with here. I don't need yours. I don't need your problems to become my problems, just because you for whatever reason can't handle them on your own. I shouldn't be sitting here at one in the fucking morning with no sleep, stressing out over your latest display of appalling behaviour. It's bad enough that he doesn't try and stop you. If anything he encourages you with his laughter. But we shouldn't have to try and regulate your behaviour like a naughty child at a family 'do. You're a grown man, for fuck's sake, take some fucking responsibility for yourself! Don't you realise that while they're all laughing now, when you leave they all shake their heads? I can't even enjoy your company anymore. I spend the whole time worrying. Worrying that you're going to go too far and upset someone, worrying that you're going to offend everyone with your behaviour, worrying that you're going to throw up in my car on the way home, worrying worrying worrying. I shouldn't be worrying about you!

Why do I worry about you?

Why do you do it to yourself?

And why can't I tell this all to your face?

I'm a fucking useless bleeding heart, that's why.

God, I despise myself sometimes.


1 comment:

Brendan said...

I am so sorry robyn for the other night. ;)