I don’t know what to write about.
As I sit in class my mind is blank.
No thoughts.
No songs stuck in my head.
Just the endless silence.
If I think, I’ll think about him, if I think about him I’ll think about us.
If I think about us I think about how we are no longer, we.
Just him.
Just me.
I refuse to accept that I may still have feelings for him.
Which is hurting me just as so.
I want to know the truth, of what really happened.
I don’t want excuses, just the truth.
I don’t know what to write about.
These words in the page in front of me aren’t mine.
Someone else wrote them.
Surely.
I couldn’t have thought like that.
If I think, I think about friends, and if I think about friends, I think about her.
Our friendship is strong, surely to last a lifetime.
Every day is a blessing.
I guess I do have things to write about.
Friends, Enemies, Almost’s
Life has been nice.
Life has been painful.
Life has been healing.
Life has been waiting.
When I think, I think about them, when I think about them, I cry.
I can’t remember everything, only bits and pieces.
Makes me wonder if it actually happened.
When I think about my future,
I think of a young lady who knows nothing about where she came from.
Who she’s met.
Who she is.
It scares me, that maybe one day, I’ll forget all of this.
And I don’t want to forget.
I’m scared of everything.
I don’t want to be scared.
But fear consumes me.
It haunts me through every moment of my being.