I once had a friend call me for help with homework,
it was nothing new, I'd practically done half her BA for her
I enjoy school when helping others, but hate going myself
I suppose that I could say there's little I do just for me

She needed questions answered for sociology or something
favorite color, favorite season--finally "what defines life?"--
Pain I answered.  I already had a couple drinks that morning
I always give the straight answer at that point, no filters left

Pain? Oh, that was a good answer she said, it means you're smart
I just laughed and laughed.  Pain doesn't make you intelligent
it just means you've learned from experience that most things,
and especially people, will hurt you if you let them.

I've thought of that more and more recently, as I come upon the 1st
anniversary of my mother's death.  She died before her time, but I
think she just gave up by that point- too much pain, too much regret
to think that another day would be any better than the last

I've lost two great people in my life this year.  My mom, and R,
who I had opened up to more than anyone else in my life.  All my insecurity,
doubt, pain, happiness, secrets, anguish, fears, the time I tried to end it all.  
How can you give all that to someone and they just take it, smile and move on?

Now we just share pleasantries in passing and live this lie of still being friends
but also so much more.  As if we still have some type of connection
when it's obvious that she has moved on, leaving me here alone.

I have to learn to let it go, leave these constant feelings of sadness and rejection
by the wayside, but I can't.  Langston Hughes said "I'm laughing to keep from dying"
That's what I'm doing, smiling to everyone on the outside to hide the darkness within
but it's so tiring, so draining to make it easy for them to see what they want.    
I've got nowhere to run, no place to hide, no way to get away--that's why I'm here-
writing for those I no longer think of as strangers, as she slips away silently in the night