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You were a character in my story, waiting to be played out in real life

The more he talked about his boring topics, the more I wanted to destroy his soul. Whenever he talked I felt like there was an imaginary noose wrapped around my neck, waiting for the floor below me to finally give in. I hated him. I hated that he had confidence and I didn’t. I hated that he was always happy being around me when I can’t even enjoy my own company, alone. He was going to school; he was going to join the navy, He was going to travel and I was jealous. It made me hate myself because I know that where his life is going, mine was 100 years behind. Here I am jogging in place, while he’s off feeling and doing things that I don't have the ability to feel or do.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

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Date: 9/13/2012 2:52:00 AM
Hi. i'm the last person to critique another's writing...i write what comes into my head - usually fantasy...but this is evocative and sad and reminds me of myself until recently. nice job and good luck :)
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