A Long Time Ago

December 2010

I got on and I didn't want to get off. But I didn't have a choice. I don't have a choice. I only go along with whatever you had decided. This is what it feels like to be left behind again, to be unwanted. To be forced to move on without a choice. This is what it feels like to know exactly what I needed to know.
The chance that maybe you might come back is gone. It was never there, I kid myself but at least it entertained me for a while. Now onto the real world. My heart, still broken from the last second, shatter yet again. It can break and shatter only so many times before there isn't any left, until there isn't any to pick up. It's so close. I want to be there. I don't want to feel for you or anyone in the future for that matter. Yet I know I will and it scares me.
I wish I had the machine from Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind. But then I would feel the heartbreak again anyways. We just put ourselves through the same thing over and over again. For what?
He was a part of me. He was ripped away. He still stayed inside of me. He continually is ripped away. And yet a part of me still had him. For what?  I just want it done and over. But it just continues to drag on and on.
He is gone. I must move on. And that is the lesson it all comes down to... yet again. Only one way to end the pain once and for all, to let it hit full force!

Somewhere

Somewhere I had lost myself. Somewhere along the way my vision fogged. This journey began a long time ago and is quite a long journey. Yet it isn't that long ago, only four years of college really. But it numbed me, and somewhere during that time, I changed. For the worse, for the better, I don't know. I just know I don't necessarily long for the naive confident little girl I was when I entered and I definitely don't want to be the person I am today. I can't define her. I don't know her. She lives inside of me without me. She lives in spite of me. Somewhere within me.
Now I talk in riddles because I can't spell out the truth. I'm afraid it'll be too clearly sounded out for my own ears to hear. I talk in riddles because somewhere inside of me, the pains, the vulnerabilities, the weaknesses cover themselves in fear of being exposed. They cover themselves in a blanket of thorns to those who trespass. Believe it or not, one of those trespasser is me. I don't know who else has trespassed, whether or not they merely glanced at the thorns or have touched it and were scorned. Actually I do know. I talk in riddles.