| Dec. 23rd, 2009 @ 09:19 pm 01. |
|---|
Current Music: A Day To Remember - Plot To Bomb The Panhandle
Dear ,
You're here. There is an opportunity staring straight at me in the face and I am not taking action. I don't have the guts to. It's an insane, ridiculous, terrible idea and I'm frustrated with myself for thinking of it in the first place.
It's obvious now that however many times I state, "I'm over it," to myself or others, it is not valid for anything. Even without communication for weeks, a simple little blip in that time plot is enough for me to resort to taking a few steps back to calm down any conflicting emotions -- and by conflicting emotions, I mean still wanting.
Not being over,
Still hoping,
Still wishing,
Still thinking,
Still missing;
It's all still maddening.
It's been two-and-a-half years since it first began. It's been one-and-a-half years since it first ended. Or, at least, it was supposed to.
That one evening before it was all gone was too close to perfect. It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough. Maybe if that evening didn't exist, this situation of emotions wouldn't be occurring.. maybe, or maybe not.
We were such kids. Aren't we supposed to get over things like that? Learn to let go? Or does it take longer for it to happen? I tried tricking myself into believing I was over it, but I now realize that it only works when that blip is non-existent.
The reason why it was so much more different and the fall that much higher was because of who you are.. is because of who you are. Your character. Personality. The stark line in the sand between you and the rest..
Or maybe I'm just -- still -- feeding into the thoughts of the young whilst I'm writing this.
Get real and grow up. Grow up and get real.
The thoughts of yesterday are petty in comparison to the thoughts of today..
..but I'm still feeling this feeling that I don't want to feel.
A reply is something I still have yet to receive now, and it's for the better if the rest of the night does not hold one for me. Oh, but I may have spoke too soon.. the blue is blinking. I don't want to check. I don't want to know that it's you, yet I don't want to know that it isn't.
I'm waving to this opportunity as it passes me by. Don't worry, though, dear opportunity, you will be sorely missed. Tomorrow, or the next day, will be spent with anguish in my mind, conjuring up possible possibilities that this night could have nurtured.
I'll continue with the facade. This is me, making things more difficult for myself.
It isn't anything new.
Have a nice, fine pre-Christmas eve.
Truly, though not yours,
.
Love everyone. |
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