Lyrics by Brand New.
The best news is, continuing with the theme from my latest sleep madness tweet, is that I think I've successfully steeled myself off. Not Sarah, not Matt, ...well...kind of Emily, can see through it.
If I pretend it's okay, it's okay. If I just...forget about everything, I can live my life every day and no one can tell.
Of course, it helps that the three people that are closest to me, I rarely see. Matt I usually see in passing. We work opposite shifts so it makes it hard to see him often. Emily and Sarah are both no less than 2.5 hours away.
It's so easy to pretend, with just text between the four of us, that I'm content in my life. No one knows how much I drink, how much I smoke, how much time I spend staring at a computer screen, begging for any and all distractions to get me through the night. I don't have to feel like there's no air in my lungs. I don't have to have the sick, pathetic, self-loathing feeling bubbling in the pit of my gut. I don't have to deal with it. I get so little sleep lately that I fall asleep within minutes of hitting the pillow.
This is brave-face at it's finest.
I don't have to worry about telling Sarah all the things I want to tell her. About how I (think) I feel about her. About how she's such a great distraction from life, that I need a distraction from HER. But that's okay. I know who she is and what I am to her. It's not that bad. Just a pang of longing. Just one night, I keep telling myself. One night to hide behind alcohol and just...fucking say everything.
But it's not necessary. She doesn't matter anymore. She's just a friend who's at my side when I need her.
I don't have to worry about looking pathetic in front of Emily. As long as I can keep my emotions in check when I'm texting her (which, I just failed at. Miserably.), then she'll never be the wiser. Why burden her when she's happy where she is? I'm far too good at injecting pathetic sadness and burden onto people. I try to leave her alone as much as possible. Sometimes it's easier than other times.
But she doesn't know any better...so maybe she does. So what? She's also just a friend who's at my side when I need her.
And Matt...well...I don't say much to him at all. He doesn't need to know what's really in my head. No need to look weak in front of him.
But he also doesn't know any better. And it doesn't matter. He's just a bro.
If I hide behind a steely glare, a fake laugh, a cheesy smile...good. I'm sick of being the burden. Sick of being the sad one, the lonely one. Sick of people not telling me things so they don't hurt me.
I'll wear brave-face as long as I have to, to convince my friends that everything's alright and life is great and we're all friends.
It's time I really, really steeled myself off. It's time I let my emotions go and just lived the way people want me to be. Happy. At least, content. And that's how it'll be.
They'll never be the wiser.
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