So I just left him there, sitting in the park bench. I couldn't' really take what he was saying anymore. That uptight fuck just didn't understand what I was going through.

I lit up a new cigarette on my way home, I still cant get used to my fingers smelling like tobacco, after all those years trying to get the people around me to quit I end up becoming a smoker. Just goes to show how much can change in so little time.

These past couple of weeks have seen me do things I wouldn't normally do. I told him my story but I didn't tell him everything, I never say everything I have to say for the fear of becoming too vulnerable in front of the wrong person. Spilling your own secrets randomly can lead to a very, very crappy outcome.

I decided to walk this time instead of taking the bus as I usually do. I just wasn't in the mood for crying babies and smelly bus-people, all I needed was to get home, open a blank page and hope my pen has enough. The music in my ears and the smoke in my mouth kept me busy until I got home, to this shitty, gritty apartment shared by no one except myself. It was all I could afford and it's more than I need.

My apartment consists of you lower than standard necessities, the chair and table being my most used and important pieces. I could almost wear that table down with how hard I press my pen against my notebooks. I've never brought him or anybody here though, not for being embarrassed at how the place looks, I couldn't care less, but because is what little space I have that I can call my own; not even my notebooks that used to be my best kept secret seem to have lost that appeal to me. Sometimes it's too hard for me to start writing after a full day of whatever the fuck I was doing.

I opened up my newest notebooks to the next blank page, trying to not read whatever expectation I wrote down on the few pages before that. After this morning I thought I would have something incredible to write about, but all I could think about was this afternoon, the awkward rejection, my stepping out of the longest friendship I've had and really wanting never to see him again. I just couldn't stand his way of belittleing all of my issues, his way of trying to find an answer for everything when all I wanted was someone to just shut the fuck up and listen.

He couldn't even do that.

So now I'm sitting in my only chair with my drink and smoke in my shitty table looking out at the window getting familiarized with the sounds coming from outside.

This is a shitty place, as shitty as I'm feeling right now.