Sunday, June 14, 2009

thirty five: set stubborn on standing

This is not getting any easier and I feel like it hasn't even begun.
I hate that I'm going through this.
I hate that I'm writing this for the whole world to see.
I am weighed down, with thousands of miles between us.
I feel like there's more to the story, that there's clues to the answers right in front of my face waiting to be found so I can smile again.
It's so easy to tell that I am not right lately, that I'm not "all there", it's written all over my face and getting so much harder to hide.
I feel like this is all my fault, and if I had just said the things that you wanted to hear, none of this would be happening.
If I wasn't so set in in my routine, if I wasn't so scared you wouldn't be so against me leaving this place for a while.
I need you, for as much as that scares you; I need you.
It scares me too.
This is as plain as I can put it.

I wear rubber bands on my wrist instead of tying string around my finger so I don't forget.

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