I could be dead. For all he knows, I am. I wish he thought that I was dead instead of being silent and breaking his heart. Sometimes, I wish I were dead anyways.
I'm having trouble with this "letting go," and I don't think it's just because I want someone to talk to. Maybe I didn't realize it, but I think I had genuine feelings for him. I think I actually liked the guy. Not enough to spend the rest of my life with, but certainly enough to have a decent relationship with. I kind of miss him.
But not enough to go back. I just feel bad. I constantly wonder what he's doing. (Is that weird?) I got a text from another this morning, asking about plans. I wonder if he'll wonder if I'm dead too.
But he won't. I'm sure both of them know quite well that I'm alive and breathing. I wish they thought that I was dead. I wish they didn't hate me.
I wish I hadn't of made my life this way. Too late.
Luckily, it's time for change. I've got goals and challenges, but I am working towards things and I'm excited to do it. I've got my eyes set on the prize and although it seems somewhat close and somewhat far (I have no fucking clue), it's just something I'm going to have to constantly want. I will earn it. I will.
'Slow and fast,
curves along her emerald dress,
he had plans.
I saw.
Letting go of the sunrise,
I turn to face the darkness.
Determination.
Months.
Alaska.'
No comments:
Post a Comment