Hidden Stories Hurting

So recently he told me that he doesn't want to tell me something because he is concerned about hurting me. I believe that, but I also think, yeah, right. Because he hurts me all the time, as my previous posts demonstrate. But this is somehow different in his mind.

I know why. It isn't because he's so concerned about hurting me, it's because he just doesn't want to tell me. We've reached a stage in our so-called friendship where he keeps things from me. That doesn't sound like friendship to me. I tell my friends things. I confide in them. I tell them things that I don't tell my family or my co-workers or people in class or strangers on the street. That is what friends are; it's what they do.

I realize that this particular friendship is more complicated than most, but it seems that it is only whatever he wants it to be. If he wants to talk, we talk. If he wants to hang out, we hang out. If I want something, I'm on my own. So what we have here is a one-sided friendship. Or, as I'm more inclined to think, no friendship at all.

So I say fine. Be that way. I thought I was being a good friend by listening to him talk about things that were important or things that were bothering him, but that's not what he wants. He wants someone that he doesn't have to pay much attention to, will leave him completely unburdened, and won't ever ask any questions. So I guess this is it. This is my decision.

There is no friendship anymore. There is only a nonchalant school working relationship of help me with this test and I'll see you in class and are those papers graded yet. If it is too difficult to trust me, to talk to me, to pay attention to me (three new outfits in one week and not ONE comment), to listen to what I have to say, then screw it. Don't bother. Because that's what is hurting me. Not those stories you're keeping from me.