re-read

from the time that i could construct sentences, i owned a work book of sorts. once i realized that i could secretly keep the thoughts that i had written down away from the world, my work books graduated to bound books with locks. to this day, including this blog, i have a collection of my thoughts, my daily life, my revenge, my loves and lusts. the advantage to being able to laugh at yourself is that you can go back in time ... your time.
so today, i went back. i went back to remind myself of why i am leaving. of why i fell in and out of love. and to find a way to make this hole in my chest go away. i'm wavering between the choices i made. i'm asking myself, "are you sure?" i feel sad. and fuck off to anyone that wants to take that away from me. i don't think it matters who, or which one of us instigated the "break up" talk, i can still feel sad, i'm losing here too.
at this point everything feels surreal. there's closeness between us that is making me doubt all of what i was feeling and experiencing. and then, here lies the proof. here in my own words, my own feelings, everything is brought back to reality when i read them. i can hear it in him now, i see it in his eyes. when he speaks about the separation, he seems at peace. at least we weren't alone on this ... we were actually together on this, we just didn't know it, we couldn't talk about it. how do you admit to your partner, "i failed you".
i know it's all formalities, but when people get married they share vows. our vows never had the words "til death do us part" - we shared, "no barriers, no limits and forever".
who the fuck was i kidding?

anonymous

there are only a few of you that actually read the going ons in my world, my mind, my heart. others know the ramblings, the drunkness, the stonedness, the silliness, and there are the others that see me on a daily and know nothing of what happens in the parameters of my body, my full, head to toes body. so, i thought, why then should it even matter if i use this anymore, maybe i could, or would create a new place for me to type my words into. i thought more and concluded that i should stay put and keep my thoughts here. you know where they are, you know how to read them, and this is how i will continue, whether you are here or not.

i have no secrets, so the things i write will be candid, honest, heavy and sometimes hurtful, but i'm working shit out, i'm working it out. as people, we are conditioned to "work it out", "see it through", "make things work", if you ask me this is optimism at it's cheesiest. it seems unfair almost, why can't we just talk? i don't want to come across as an asshole, but honestly, i can't help it, it's part of who i am. i say things, honest things, and i don't mean to hurt, but by keeping myself silent, i'm learning that the scars are being left for me to bear. i'm lonely. and that alone is hard to swallow.