This is my Blogproject. Sit down, stay awhile. Feed the fish, and read some art.
If you like what you see or have any questions or critiques, please let me know.
Yours, Truly.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

I'm not telling and you won't guess correctly

I need to stop.

I've written you a letter before this, though I never sent it, never showed anyone. And I was proud of that letter-- the writing, the sentiment... But I guess it's not true anymore, so you will never see those words.

I am stumbling my way down a slight incline.

I dream about you sometimes, and usually I wake up forgetting that I'm not allowed to be happy. Not with you. And when it hits me, it hits low. It takes the wind right out of me. Sometimes I cry, and sometimes I am too sad for tears.

Are you waiting to catch me... or watching me fall?

One thing that bugs me... I don't even know if I ever had a chance, or if my fate was decided from the beginning. Was it something I did? Is my life now just some twisted punishment? What is it, I don't deserve you?

I've been here before, and I just keep coming back.

It's been hard to change the way I think, my reflexive reactions. I forget sometimes that you are gone. Some days I act like you're still here until something snaps and I'm in pain. "Oh yeah," I think, "it's like that now."

Do you know how easy life would be if I could stay away?

I am trying. Trying to live differently. I don't want to live like you don't exist, and I can't physically live like you are a part of my life. So I am left with living like I don't need you. I don't need you. But I'm still learning that. I'm new to this.

I might actually be more happy without hope... Do other people understand that?

I hope everyone feels lucky today, lucky to have you.
Because they will never understand me, not until you are gone from them too.
It's sad, but it is the truth.

Let's leave the light-switch, and keep them in the dark.

Not Yours... Truly.

1 comment:

  1. Because you and I are among the unfortunates condemned to forever walk the earth with our hope, dreams, and ambition unrequited, we may never attain that happiness we yearn for so strongly.

    While we have breath in our lungs, we will however continue to hope, and you and I are fortunate in our curse in that we hope for and aspire to greater things - a feeling whose touch those fully contented souls (in envy of whom we so often find ourselves) are seldom, if ever, able to perceive. Even if that does leave us vaguely miserable quite often.

    I will allow two men far more intelligent than myself to speak vicariously through me:

    "Hope, in reality, is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man."

    "Et res non semper, spes mihi semper adest."