Okay, so I lied. Yeah, I was pissed off, but that's only because you're my best friend and you get mixed up with your girl. That just ain't right. It's a horrid feeling, you see, it makes me feel as if I'm not good enough to be held in that kind of esteem. It is as if that comparison were splitting knives, and honestly, it's hard to make you understand. I may say it is fine, using "whatever" as my excuse to everything, but you very well know that is not the case; you are simply choosing to believe it because it's a less complex realization of our friendship. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, break all the mirrors in sight, rip out all the pages of your favorite books and set fire to the most grandiose of forests. Anger bubbles in my blood that pours out with every word; the very words that are my sharpest blades. I can't rid myself of this stupid feeling, because no harm is meant, but truth be told, this jealousy should be dead; it's out of place in this world. Can't you comprehend? These wrinkles on my face are rooted in these conversations transmitted to me. And I don't mean to harm you or myself in anyway, yet, this is the only way known to expression embodied in my thoughts.