Lapse

I'm sorry for the long stretches between posts lately. And the large spaces in between paragraphs. I don't know what's going on with the computer, but it makes me look like I've written a novel instead of a post and I'm most apologetic.
I'm writing a speech for my english class at present. And I'm watching Pride and Prejudice on and off throughout the day (They condensed 6 hours of one of the most amazing romances into two and still managed to get Darcy right, even though he's not Colin Firth and Lizzie is -Eww- Keira Knightly. I would tip my hat off to the director if I had one on.) Seeing as my speech is on Euthanasia, it's rather depressing stuff. I'm talking about dying people a lot, and then looking up dying people, and seeing what hell their life is, and then writing about dying people. And I'm watching that rain scene over and over again and wishing that for one moment, I had some of the romantic felicity too. Just on a small scale.
And I'm watching you letting her turn you into.. Something. And I'm hoping that you won't disappear like others I've watched, just so that you can become something that everyone else will approve of. And I'm loving the fact that we can be friends and that, I think, you trust me, and that I can trust you, and that you are kind. But I'm hating the fact that I may just be the "friend" forever, and that all the effort and struggle and time I've put into this relationship is just going to leave me feeling used. I love being your friend. It's one of things I am most proud of. And one of the things that brings me the most happiness. But I can't help being dissatisfied by the whole thing, and being angry and jealous and thinking that everything is unfair. I don't want to come home and be sad for the rest of the week anymore, just because of some small conversation which probably meant nothing to you. And in your defense, I've been too aloof for your transitional teenage-boy mind to wrap around it all. That it hurt to give you dating advice and for you to make fun of me for not having any boyfriends. That it hurt when you fell for my friend, who didn't care. That I was trying to tell you something the whole time. And I'm just tired of it all. Just tired. But I don't want to let go yet, because I don't know what I'll do when I finally get to it.
And you tell me that you think I'm sad.