Before the day is up, let me put down something short. Maybe I’ll feel better because there isn’t anyone on right now I can talk to and I do have a feeling this will be another night deprived of sleep. I guess that’s the way it goes when you’re in my position.
Turning back to my old self isn’t as easy as I originally thought it was. As much as would have liked, my relationship really did open alot the doors that would allow me to express everything I feel. It’s harder to hold back everything when you’re surrounded by the physical memories of the ones you love.
I guess I’m a sentimental that way. I never do get rid of all the things that mean so much to me. Besides, I love them as they are with our without the memories attached to them. At least I can see her sleeping beside my bed. At least every ring of the bell reminds me what she gave me. Or the letters and poems that reminded both of us of sorrow, regret, joy and a promise of forever.
Damn…where is Jean Claude’s patience when you need it.
Maybe that’s why in every relationship, it’s harder for the person who faced the words of breaking up to get back on their feet. It’s even harder I guess when you’re not the one surrounded by people whom at least would keep you company even if you don’t hear the words of comfort. Whether it’s my fault or not that I don’t have that luxury. It doesn’t make it any easier.
Even a rock can still shed tears.
I don’t know what I can expect. This feels surprisingly familiar, something like the days of old. When you expect something good in your life, it gets taken away. I know nothing lasts forever, but nothing good lasts enough to really make a point? Next time, someone remind me to really be paranoid the moment something good happens.
I have to keep reminding myself over and over again. I will not feel alone. I will not feel abandoned. I will not feel left out. But…those are only words. When I take a look at the place around me, sure I went out, sure I talked to new people and made jokes to people about how I am now single. But does it make it any easier? No. Does it make it any more empty and isolated?
I ask myself. Why am I laughing? Because I don’t want to cry? Yeah…that’s a pretty good reason. Because I want to be better at hiding my emotions again. Yeah…that’s a safe bet. Because I want her back? No I doubt that’ll work. Why do I laugh at myself?
Because it’s the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart.
But could you really blame me for feeling this way? The person whom I said would be my last just decided to walk away from me. The only thing that can hold it all back is the thought of me going through with my plans. That’s all I could think off. Maybe Sandra and Seymour will not be by my side. Maybe she won’t be by my side.
But at least I can carry out my duty to the last breath.
“Victus No Salus” The ancient Greeks used to say. The Doomed Have No Safety.
Or in short, when you’re screwed you might as well go all the way.
I shouldn’t care too if no one else is there to watch my back as well. I can’t worry nor cast stones that I need people to do something with me. Hell, how could I forget one of Anita Blake’s Rule “Never ask someone to do something that you can but are not willing to do.” When will I learn that my life is always one of my own sweat and blood and no one else’s. Do I have to shed some more tears before I learn? Do I have to bleed some more before I remember?
Maybe in this case I have to.
It’s going to take more than just a day and writing this down for me to stop caring about myself completely and just run the whole nine yards of glass with my bare foot.
Looks like I’m going to have to keep walking that road again.
Looks like I have to wander another cold dark in thought.
Looks like it’s going to be another night waiting for the dawn come.