I shouldn’t have. As my spirit awakens and ascension begins; I now realise that this longing has less to do with “him” and more to do with myself. If not by chance we met; karmic calculations divine time and place. There is a method to this universal madness. As I sit here; the wind chimes providing dull noise to the otherwise peacefully quiet afternoon; a realisation weighs down, pressing on my throat and chest. Culpability for every transgression; every word uttered. There is a difference between wanting love and taking it. Giving love and receiving. For years I had wanted love, I wanted love so badly that I abused myself and others, allowed them to reflect their hate and insecurity through my eyes. The confidence he once promised (and delivered upon) has been slowly and systematically etched away leaving me once again to question my worth. It’s time that I walk away. I’ll pack my things, my thoughts, what identity that’s left; in search for peace and passion once again. For it is now apparent that the arms which held me tight were also chains that bound my soul. Let tears be temporary reminders that I still know how to feel. Let them cleanse and balance emotions; let them freely drain.