I Looked Into Your Eyes, Thought I Knew You For A Mintue, Now I'm Not So Sure.

What am I even supposed to do? I could be angry. I could let you have it; I could tell you how they were right, how I should have listened to you and everyone else. I could scream at you, asking you how dare you ask me to do something as shallow as to pick you over my friend, how dare you be so callous as to stomp on my feelings like they were nothing more than a few pathetic ants, scurrying around helplessly. I could tell you that I never meant to like you, and tell you that you could have maybe at least pretended to politely move on about it. But I care about you too much. You're too sensitive for that (even though you'd die if you heard me say that), and I can't stand to hurt you any more than I apparently already have. Has it ever occured to you that I'm a person too? Do you lack any empathy towards anyone but yourself? Or do I just put out the 'together' persona so well that you don't believe me when I tell you I'm confused and hurt? I guess you never believed me. I always loved you, on some very basic level. Not 'in love'. It wasn't like that. But you always appealed to me. I don't know why. At first, you were condescending; you were harsh; you were unemotional. But I soon realized that was always on the outside. The more I got to know you, the more I saw it. That other side of you, the side that could be silly, or sweet, or thoughtful. And that appealed to me. I could always tell. The Mr.Hyde in you would come out the more you felt threatened, and I loved the Dr. Jekyll in you so much that I would open up and be vulnerable, and patient with you. That did me in. I always have my walls up, with almost everyone. And I guess... I donn't get it. I don't understand the attachment to you. I don't understand why, I never, ever, have. And when you started to let me in, to let me see a little bit about you, too, I was so excited. But I guess we never knew each other, did we? We knew what the other wanted to say. We're too much like each other, on some basic level, to really understand each other. We keep just enough about our feelings and intentions hidden that the other is always guessing, and that's never a good formula. I don't get why it hurts so much that you're so mad. I guess it's because I don't understand it. I don't even know WHY you're mad at me. Is it because I won't stop being friends with her? Because I don't think that's all it is. But I don't know what the rest of it is, because you won't tell me, and that's just how you are. Was I too honest? Did I feel too much? You said things are going to be different, and I can't help but agree.