Monday, July 26, 2010

The promises we make...

You said we'd be friends.

Just because we couldn't be together, didn't mean we couldn't be the best of friends. That's what you said.

But time has gone by, and you don't write, you don't call. Sometimes I hear things from other people about how you are, or what you're doing. Sometimes they're the kinds of things that friends would tell each other.

I'm glad you're happy, I really am. But still, I can't help but think that maybe all that time ago, when you asked 'Can we still be friends?' What I should have said, was no.

No, we couldn't be friends. That from that moment onwards, we would be archenemies. That I'd be the Lex Luthor to your Superman. That you'd be the Joker to my Batman.

And we'd do battle. We'd demolish cities with our plots and schemes to destroy each other. Millions of lives would be lost in our feud. Billions even.

And one day, when there was nowhere left for either of us to hide, we'd stand in the rubble of the earth that we'd ruined in our pursuit. And face off against each other. In a final battle.


The way we were always meant to be.

I hope you're well.