Sometimes feelings aren’t enough
and that’s ok.
It’s kind of like I’ve slipped out of my own skin and become someone else.
To me you were like home. To you, I feel like I was just a vacation. I was something that you could enjoy, but only in small amounts and just for a little while. I had high hopes that you would keep me around, but I really don’t know if that’s what you had in mind. Now I don’t mean to get all metaphorish and all, but sometimes that’s the best way to describe things. I thought maybe we could have become like a part of the sand, or the waves of the Pacific. I thought that just maybe if we were to have swam fast enough, we could have been something that could continue on forever; we’d be infinite. But I watched you as you drifted further out into the water, fearless and in control, right as I stayed in all the places where my feet could still touch the bottom. I was always too afraid to venture out any further than that. I needed someone who would be willing to stay by my side until I was ready to go out a little more, and at the time being, that person was not going to be you. I think we both knew that, or maybe just I did, and didn’t want to believe it.
I can be honest and say that, quintessentially, I feel a great part of what was in the works was mighty shaky, due to a lack of understanding from both of us.
I could make an ocean with the tears I’ve shed over you.
And then swim in my own sadness.
You took my heart and ran.
You never came back.
You’ve lost
And I pray to God that one day you will wake up and come to the realization of how rare it is in life to find someone who loves the way I did. To love you with every ounce of their being and with all they have.
The wound you left.
I’m so ashamed to be heartbroken over something this stupid. You’re all I ever write about, or think about anymore and I hate it. But I can’t stop. I want to, I really do, I want to be able to stop. I really don’t want you to have this control over me, but you do and you don’t even know it. I feel pathetic and a part of me hates myself for it. I’m young, I shouldn’t feel this broken. You’ve left me with a mark, an open wound. I can’t say that I’m scarred by it, because a scar means there has been some healing. There has been no healing at all. This wound is just as raw as it was 5 months ago, when you decided to put a stop to things before they even started. So I just sit here bleeding and infected. Bleeding memories of you out of my mind that has been infected by your poisonous words. I sit here thinking, will it ever heal? Will it ever close? And when it does, will the scar stay forever? I hope it heals, and as for the scar, well, a scar is better than an open wound.
1:49 am
It’s 1:49am and I am up thinking of it all. Everything that has gone on between us leading up to where we are now. Our past is following us and our history will never leave. It is going to be there forever, and I don’t think I can really live my life knowing this. The thought of what happens haunts me daily. Our past is like a ghost that creeps up on me during the most unexpected times. I don’t really think it’s just our past, I think that you might be the ghost too. You’re always there, I can feel you, but I can’t see you. You haunt my mind with empty thoughts. With regrets. With sadness. And with a heaviness so real that I feel it is crushing me. I feel like I am being crushed under the weight of thoughts of you. I am constantly consumed by thoughts of you and everything that went on. Constantly. It’s 1:49am and I am up thinking of it all.
