Masochism

I e-mailed him on Myspace. I couldn't help it even though it was two weeks after the fact. I don't know why I keep doing this to myself... dragging my heart through the mud- it's been seven years.

It took him a couple days to read my message and a couple more to reply, but he did reply... out of politeness. I have to give him that much credit, he never gave me the courtesy of knowing why he ended our friendship, but over the years he has been very forth giving with the "Thanks yous." Unfortunately, there are not enough thank- yous in the world that will ever amount to what his friendship meant to me. I've been going over and over what I could have possibly done wrong and I can't figure it out. He was my air. A person who wishes to live... there is nothing they won't do to inhale.

Charge It To The Game is the reason for Maize & Blue. He is the reason for 5th Ave, Polaris, Boston, Big Time, Aby, and Alias. He is not money but he is the root of all evil... to all the things and men that have gone wrong in my life over the past 7 years. It's hard to admit, but Charge It To The Game is the reason for 1550, 50, and Cope as well. He is the first to all my seconds.

I will NEVER love another human being the way I love Charge It To The Game. There is a certain portion of my heart that will always be reserved for him... that will always beat for him... correction... that DID beat for him. When he walked out of my life, a part of me died. They say, "You don't know a good thing 'til it's gone," but that's a lie. I knew all along. I have always known his worth... ALWAYS!

Anyhow, I am sitting here @ 1 am writing in this bullshit blog about a man who doesn't care about me at all. Ironic and funnily, he still means the world to me. I know the outcome of every e-mail, every friend request... every everything, yet- I keep trying. Why? I am crazy I guess. Self infliction is the worse pain.