And I've completely fallen apart.
I always knew I loved you more.
I should be happy that you're not as affected, that you're not heaving around a broken heart.
I always knew I loved more, held more, missed more, cared more.
I'm waiting for the day when it will hit you that I'm gone, waiting for you to feel what I feel. But it never will come, will it?
When I don't feel dead inside, all I want to be is dead inside.
But you.
You were always the first to say goodbye.
You do not carry a broken heart.
You were always okay.
You are okay
Before the filter.
"Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of burden behind us" - Samuel Smiles
Wednesday, 26 March 2014
Monday, 24 December 2012
Don't patronise me.
This is seriously one of the best songs ever made.
"I miss you."
"Don't lie to me, I know you're only saying that because I'm saying it. You're probably thinking, 'how could I possibly miss her when I saw her yesterday?'"
"..."
"I'm telling the truth, aren't I?"
"... I don't know."
Thank you for trying to spare my feelings, but the damage was done nonetheless. I appreciate the effort, though.
You won't say it unless I say it. Neither will you ever tell me that you love me. You say it in response or when we say goodbye, but never will you look upon me in love and admiration and say those words with any kind of conviction. You don't love me for me, you only 'love me' for loving you. One day you're going to realise that. Until then I'll hold on to you, clinging with every breath, until the moment you wake up and take my breath away.
One day you're going to find a beautiful woman who will make you feel for her the way I feel about you. She'll be the luckiest woman on earth. You will be so good and wonderful to her and you will love her with every fibre in your being because she's the one.
Is it possible to be with the so called 'one' and yet you're not the one for them?
Don't blame yourself for not loving me, missing me or needing me in your life. Don't feel bad about it either, it's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's mine, and I think I'll be okay.
"I'll close my eyes then I won't see the love you don't feel when you're holding me."
Stunning lyrics.
I know you insist that you love me, but I also know that you're tired, you want to sleep and you're trying to get me to stop crying.
Please don't say those things unless you mean them.
Please don't patronise me.
"I miss you."
"Don't lie to me, I know you're only saying that because I'm saying it. You're probably thinking, 'how could I possibly miss her when I saw her yesterday?'"
"..."
"I'm telling the truth, aren't I?"
"... I don't know."
Thank you for trying to spare my feelings, but the damage was done nonetheless. I appreciate the effort, though.
You won't say it unless I say it. Neither will you ever tell me that you love me. You say it in response or when we say goodbye, but never will you look upon me in love and admiration and say those words with any kind of conviction. You don't love me for me, you only 'love me' for loving you. One day you're going to realise that. Until then I'll hold on to you, clinging with every breath, until the moment you wake up and take my breath away.
One day you're going to find a beautiful woman who will make you feel for her the way I feel about you. She'll be the luckiest woman on earth. You will be so good and wonderful to her and you will love her with every fibre in your being because she's the one.
Is it possible to be with the so called 'one' and yet you're not the one for them?
Don't blame yourself for not loving me, missing me or needing me in your life. Don't feel bad about it either, it's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's mine, and I think I'll be okay.
"I'll close my eyes then I won't see the love you don't feel when you're holding me."
Stunning lyrics.
I know you insist that you love me, but I also know that you're tired, you want to sleep and you're trying to get me to stop crying.
Please don't say those things unless you mean them.
Please don't patronise me.
Sunday, 23 December 2012
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Let's lay here for a while...
... and cherish every moment we're in denial.
So you're going. I told myself that even if you went, I'd be happy for you. That is a place where you can become closer to our God. That is a place where you can learn his great majesty and truth. Even if they don't teach you the real fullness of it. You go and our relationship will strain. You go and I may lose you forever. You go and I will have to trust Him to take care of you. I already do, but... why? Why does this have to happen?
"What's up? You look sad."
Ah, you know me too well. That tends to happen after being in love with someone for over two and a half years. You can tell the difference, even when they're lying to you.
"No, no. I'm just tired." I reply, glancing at the clock. "... and my period pain. It's playing up again."
"Oh, ok."
Perhaps, sometimes you can't tell the difference.
"I'm fine, Bubba." I give you a sleepy smile and a kiss.
It's nothing, I'm just losing you. That's only the sound of my heart slowly breaking, if it's not already broken. Why do I have to love you so much?
Maybe the it's time to begin cataloging the details, for later, for when I don't have you to kiss me, to hug me, to tell me I'm beautiful even when I don't want to hear it. Maybe I should start remembering the way your hair settles into perfect locks, or exactly where it tends to grow longer at your neck and above your ears than everywhere else. Or the way your right eye droops slightly when you smile. Or the way you don't like smiling in photos. It's not that you're not happy to be with me, it's because you're self conscious when you smile. Or the way photos never do you justice. Or the way I love watching your far off expression when you exit the car, thinking about something, waiting for me to exit so you can turn the key. Or the way we fit together perfectly, my softness, your firmness when we relax and meld into one another. You give the most perfect hugs. Maybe I should start remembering the unique and beautiful way you smell whenever I inhale during a kiss. Maybe I should start remembering the exact way your hair feels, course between fingers. Maybe I should start remembering the different tones of voice you use when you tell me you love me. Or the way your chest feels under my cheek. Or the sound of your heart when it beats. Or the way you try to please everybody, or the way you love your family, or the way you have always tried to please me. You slip up sometimes, but those mistakes are nothing, they're small. They don't compare to how much I love you. I love you, and I can't do this.
Blessed Mother. Lord. Be with me. Tell me what to do.
Is this it?
Should I fight? Should I try harder?
Should I give up?
So you're going. I told myself that even if you went, I'd be happy for you. That is a place where you can become closer to our God. That is a place where you can learn his great majesty and truth. Even if they don't teach you the real fullness of it. You go and our relationship will strain. You go and I may lose you forever. You go and I will have to trust Him to take care of you. I already do, but... why? Why does this have to happen?
"What's up? You look sad."
Ah, you know me too well. That tends to happen after being in love with someone for over two and a half years. You can tell the difference, even when they're lying to you.
"No, no. I'm just tired." I reply, glancing at the clock. "... and my period pain. It's playing up again."
"Oh, ok."
Perhaps, sometimes you can't tell the difference.
"I'm fine, Bubba." I give you a sleepy smile and a kiss.
It's nothing, I'm just losing you. That's only the sound of my heart slowly breaking, if it's not already broken. Why do I have to love you so much?
Maybe the it's time to begin cataloging the details, for later, for when I don't have you to kiss me, to hug me, to tell me I'm beautiful even when I don't want to hear it. Maybe I should start remembering the way your hair settles into perfect locks, or exactly where it tends to grow longer at your neck and above your ears than everywhere else. Or the way your right eye droops slightly when you smile. Or the way you don't like smiling in photos. It's not that you're not happy to be with me, it's because you're self conscious when you smile. Or the way photos never do you justice. Or the way I love watching your far off expression when you exit the car, thinking about something, waiting for me to exit so you can turn the key. Or the way we fit together perfectly, my softness, your firmness when we relax and meld into one another. You give the most perfect hugs. Maybe I should start remembering the unique and beautiful way you smell whenever I inhale during a kiss. Maybe I should start remembering the exact way your hair feels, course between fingers. Maybe I should start remembering the different tones of voice you use when you tell me you love me. Or the way your chest feels under my cheek. Or the sound of your heart when it beats. Or the way you try to please everybody, or the way you love your family, or the way you have always tried to please me. You slip up sometimes, but those mistakes are nothing, they're small. They don't compare to how much I love you. I love you, and I can't do this.
Blessed Mother. Lord. Be with me. Tell me what to do.
Is this it?
Should I fight? Should I try harder?
Should I give up?
Sunday, 8 July 2012
Tuesday, 3 July 2012
I'm happy for you!
But at night when the doors of the world close, abandoned in the sea of my own thoughts, all I can think of is the distance between us.
I pray that this does not separate us farther from each other. I hate this chasm we cannot cross, this fissure we cannot mend. There's a part of you that you can't share. There's a part of me that you cannot understand. I hug you so tight it hurts, but there's still the spaces between us, walls around our hearts. It is a sadness that has seeped into my soul. Here in this contemporary place, it is the remaining echo of a bloody past. Who knew that a historical schism could still reverberate so much pain 400 years into the future?
Lord? Is it your will that we walk together? Is it your will that our fates intertwine but never join? Sometimes it's like You're telling me to have patience and never give up, that one day the streams will meet and the waters will mingle. Sometimes You're telling me that there's a joining up ahead, but it is a path that can only be forged by You and I alone. Yet Lord, I cannot help but feel that he and I are being wedged evermore apart, that while our hands are joined we stand forever on opposite sides of a parallel, never to meet.
The alarm rings. It's 2:46 AM and I'm still awake. Closing my eyes and turning over, shy little tears slip across my cheeks. They glance past my quivering attempt at a smile. I am happy for you. Truly.
Although I will admit that this past week, despite being being fake, I have smiled for your sake.
I pray that this does not separate us farther from each other. I hate this chasm we cannot cross, this fissure we cannot mend. There's a part of you that you can't share. There's a part of me that you cannot understand. I hug you so tight it hurts, but there's still the spaces between us, walls around our hearts. It is a sadness that has seeped into my soul. Here in this contemporary place, it is the remaining echo of a bloody past. Who knew that a historical schism could still reverberate so much pain 400 years into the future?
Lord? Is it your will that we walk together? Is it your will that our fates intertwine but never join? Sometimes it's like You're telling me to have patience and never give up, that one day the streams will meet and the waters will mingle. Sometimes You're telling me that there's a joining up ahead, but it is a path that can only be forged by You and I alone. Yet Lord, I cannot help but feel that he and I are being wedged evermore apart, that while our hands are joined we stand forever on opposite sides of a parallel, never to meet.
The alarm rings. It's 2:46 AM and I'm still awake. Closing my eyes and turning over, shy little tears slip across my cheeks. They glance past my quivering attempt at a smile. I am happy for you. Truly.
Although I will admit that this past week, despite being being fake, I have smiled for your sake.
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