I watch with frightened eyes as numbers change and more and more people share part of a past that would rather be kept silent—dissemination at its finest. Such an infinitesimal moment seems to capture the attention of thousands. Ironic nonetheless perfect timing, it seems convictions are simple until they’re tested. Questions arise as to whether I’ll live out this picture perfect scene, clinging desperately to pixels that locked our hands together, or give way to the ever swaying breeze that tickled delicate frames and fluttered lashes lining downcast eyes. No one knows, though, that in all it’s scrutiny, the zealous and wandering hearts could not have traveled farther from the idle stance that you and I once shared, that these bruised and battered consciences knew when enough was enough. Our eyes mine deeper into the present turned past as we search for answers in hesitant words and stubborn feet. Goodbye was always the hardest part.
I think I put too much thought into it all. Think. There I go again. I tried to plan what shouldn’t be planned and I tried to perfect what’s not meant to be perfected. I forgot what the beauty of spontaneity and imperfection could look like and realized that anything forced would only leave me feeling bitter and desolate.
Hate. Because it’s the closest word that I could think of without saying love.
I hate you.
I wish I could mean it, because we both know how much easier it would be if I did.
Hello you,
It’s nice to see that these current situations haven’t faded your smile. Your hope is still unending, but please, don’t be so hopeful. The weather seems unhappy recently—stark and gray with a casual downpour. Remember those days in March? We were fools to have believed that it would last, fools to have believed that the rain and the cold would not come. We packed up what we thought would be left behind and expected newness and change. I was misled to believe that at the end there would be a warm embrace, but instead was hit by an icy wind that hardened even the warmest of hearts. I told myself that I wouldn’t always compare the weather with emotions, but it always happens, even now. The books, the movies, why not my life?
The epitome of surrender, or so it seems. High and lofty ambitions come crumbling down to embers of rage and bitterness, smoldering and stinging my eyes—my vision—piquing this heart as I realize once again the insurmountable truth. Reverie knows no end, but it must reach its time just like you and me.
Just like you and me.
It’s been so long since we last met. Time is fleeting, but you knew that already. I forgot that you could fly—that we could fly. How light and lucid you can be, yet how heavy and vulnerable you manage to make me feel. To the times that you could make me feel whole and content, when paper and pen were the only ones who would listen, when scribbling down random words made it all worthwhile, because it all made sense to you and to me. Cherished memories and a painful past; all in all, I still have them because of you. Flooding emotions and these teardrop shaped eyes made magic. Admittedly, you always directed the most brilliant showcases, the ones that made me realize I had stories—ones to be remembered and recounted. Little pieces lined up neatly on shelves like they were meant to be that way all along, but trust me they weren’t. A scratch here, a scar there, maybe even that glimmer of hope, bottled up and gently stowed away, but it has now made it’s grand reentrance once again, because of you. This arrangement stood silently, screaming for the chance to tell its story. Carefully polished and found through many trips of you and me flying, making much needed epiphanies along the way, I quieted everything, every little story that I had. We fought a civil war. You lost. And out of everything that we found together, every intimate moment that we had, I chose to forget. But how easily I overlooked you and underestimated your power. When there was no where to go, I always had you to guide me. I know I have pushed you aside but right now, this very moment, I have you again.
Hello you,
Why are you here again? The same spot that I found you four years ago, three, and even two. Do you think that the past is easily forgotten or do you just find me a fool? And since when does forgiveness mean to start anew? Your requests seem uncanny. Your motives dishonest. So if you want something from me, go ahead and ask. But please, don’t try to deceive me, not again. I know who you are—maybe too well. I learned once; that was all I ever needed.
It’s 3:45 A.M. and my brother has just left for work. My mom is sitting in the family room reading her book while I’m making food to satisfy my late night hunger. My dad is coming down the stairs to join my mom and we all exchange a “Good morning.”
This is so strange. To clarify, I’m usually the only one up at this time; my family is NEVER up this late.
I have never been destroyed by an exam like today…
I wish I were exaggerating too but, guess what? I’m not. AHAHAHA -_-
Okay seriously, crawling into a corner and crying now.
JUST KIDDING I CAN’T DO THAT SINCE I HAVE TWO EXAMS TOMORROW YAYYY
Angry Rachel.
k bye
