I miss Kahlil

Up to this point I have never used names in my blog entries. However, I now know that it is always better to just state things, especially in black and white. Simply, because if you're not afraid to think it, then you shouldn't be afraid to say it. Otherwise, you end up leading a half life which is highly unsatisfactory.

So I miss Kahlil. And the truth is, I'm jealous just thinking about the fact that I'm now the only person in his life (or former life) who will probably never again be able to share in his company openly. I've always considered myself capable of quickly bouncing back from hurt. Don't get me wrong. I'd have my spates and I'd cry and scream. But the overriding factor was always that sustaining the friendship was more important. So many a time I put on a brave face and just spent time with the individual ignoring the hurt I was feeling until I no longer felt it (or at least until something happened and all the pain just came flooding back. In which case, bwoy...I doan even know...)

Unfortunately, I've also taken for granted that other people can do this as well...

I've been criticised for not really loving the person which is why I've been able to forget. For the written record, this is not the case. I hurt just as deeply as the next person. However, I made a promise to myself a long time ago that no man would ever make me cry even if they broke my heart. I've broken that promise on many an occasion (thankfully, never to the individual's themselves). And also, for the written record, I feel pain...and remorse...

So...in short, I miss Kahlil. When you lose the constant company of a person, who knows how to make you laugh as much as make you cry; when the person who would just take you out "just because" goes, when I know I'll never see the dark room again...and smell the pungent odour of whatever chemicals are used to bring images, likeness' to a page :) Or take trips to Hollywell with the photo club...When he decides to sell his memories, even theoretically and I know it's my fault; when I call and I know I really shouldn't; when time is slowly...just slowly passing...and all I can do is respect that...

I miss Kahl, I miss him. And even though we still speak occasionally it's just not the same...

So all I can do is vent and apologise and be honest enough with myself to say...that I miss Kahlil...