avoiding: love.
or the pains of being in love
when there's indecision,
when I needed there not to be,
when it was coming from both ends.
my tears were like
stepping stones
(a path you've avoided:
because it hurts too much
to feel, or it's easier to pretend
like those feelings
don't exist).
the fear and hesitation
of letting someone else
see
the steps you've taken,
and not
wanting to explain
how they led you to where you are
because it's hard to tell the truth
when you've been lying:
to everyone.
Without realizing it
half of the time,
and then the other half
I just lay in bed worrying about it,
or what other people think.
The thoughts led me to the point
where I couldn't leave my house,
or my room, or my bed.
The depression made me sick
and I didn't know how to deal with it
in any other way than letting it consume,
[like always]
because I was so obsessed with feeling
as much as I could, as intensely as possible.
I just didn't realize how self-destructive it was
because of the people I surrounded myself with
and the people that I wanted to, but didn't.
New Years: I decided not to make any resolutions.
Commitment still isn't my strong point, but I'm working on it.
I didn't treat those days like they were important,
and they weren't:
at the time.
I sought irrelevancy,
and silence,
and thought
and lack: of feeling, of thought, of silence.
Everything in my mind soon became contradiction
and it didn't take long for me to turn into the person
I feared most to become,
and even after I destroyed the image of it all,
it still existed in memory.
back to relevancy.
It's not about the timing.
It's all about the timing.
it's the situation:
the lack of feeling?
the lack of wanting.
the lack of empathy?
the lack of interest.
the lack of mystery?
the lack of understanding.
want is no way to love.
*** is no way to love.
drugs are no way to escape
(they just made me crazy)
crazy?
with thoughts of you,
with trying to forget about you
with trying to please everyone
with... everything.
I was afraid, so I tried my hand at avoiding:
conversation.
(there was too much hurt coming from my end
to yours. I couldn't move on, because I loved you,
but I couldn't love you, because I couldn't love myself,
[or anyone else]. The idea of love grew too big,
[in my mind] [in my pen] [in my journal] [in my life]
[the air around us] [the color of your eyes] [in memory]
[in the amount of time spent worrying about the possibilities
of things that could go wrong]).
confrontation.
(The only way I knew how to say sorry was to hold you,
and holding can mean too many different things and physical
translation has never been my strong point).
truth.
(with lies)
(with truth)
(with secrets)
(with whatever seemed to work at the time).
making changes
instead of planning changes.
I've said sorry too many times for the wrong reasons,
and not enough for the right ones.
I'm just glad to be myself again.