Deepest Regret

I have made many mistakes in my past. It is only now that I see how they have slowed me, and worn me down.

I failed to reflect on my own shortcomings.
I failed to look for ways to grow.
I failed to express my profound admiration.
I failed to give my love.
I failed to appreciate goodness.
I failed to recognise thoughtfulness.

I failed you.

And now, I miss you.

I miss the way you knew me, and you knew yourself.
I miss the broadness of your mind.
I miss the feel of your fingers between mine.
I miss the comfort of having you walk with me.
I miss that you knew how to make me laugh.
I miss the way you would smile in response.

I miss you.

I know how long it's been.
I know there is no trust left.
I know how I hurt you.
I know there's nothing I can say.
There's nothing I can do.
Nothing.

But I miss you.

You've moved on.
You've possibly found contentment.
You've doubtless found the love of your life.
You've presumably found your home.
You've likely never looked back.
You probably don't remember me now.

And when I think about all the things you no doubt have in your life now, the selfish part of me screams in agony that I am not one of them.
I think about how many chances I wasted to be a part of your future.
I think about how many things I didn't get to see you do.
I think about how you never needed me, but you wanted me around anyway, and how I threw it away because I was too insecure and immature to handle it.
I think about all the things that could have been.
I weep, because I miss you.

Sometimes, I manage to focus on my reality long enough that the ache eases for a little while.
Sometimes, it's only a few days.
Sometimes, its a week.
Sometimes, I'll forget where my towel is and the memory is back.
Sometimes, I can't help but remember the chink in the wall by which I first kissed your hand.
Sometimes, you walk in my dreams and I cannot fight you.

Because, Gods damn it, I fucking miss you.

And I know, you will never see this.
You will never remember these things.
You will not mourn my absence.
You will not weep as I do.
You are better off now.

You do not miss me.

Magic...

There is magic in you. I have seen it...

At first, I could barely see it, and then -BAM- I saw it very clearly.
IT SCREAMED OUT, I couldn't avoid it. I didn't want to either

I wanted to bask in its glory and wonder, but how to do it without drawing attention to the fact I was? I could have gotten myself in trouble if I had.
A lot of trouble.
More than it was worth, given it seemed you barely noticed I was there.

Actually, it felt like I got in your way a lot.
But you didn't push me away.

You let me hang around a little more.
And a little more.
We talked and discussed and debated.
And we shared.

I found myself with you without trying.
I had to turn and walk away sometimes because I didn't know I had done it till I was there.
And then you started finding me.
I wasn't likely to complain.

So the feeling grows.
AND IT GROWS.

Terror

There is true terror in me now. The fear I feel is in mammoth quantities. There are few times when I am not thinking about it. I have placed in your hands a piece of me. It is part of my mind, part of my heart, part of my soul. It was a hard thing to let go of, even if it's only for a little while, knowing how fragile it is. But I think it will be hard for you, too, just to look at it.

It is worn, it's pages dog-eared and torn. There are scratches and gashes and holes the way through. Stains colour it where you least expect it. And, still, I've given this piece to you.

Why did I do it? What made me decide? Did you really need to know what I've fought so hard to hide? Yes, I think you did need to know and I think it's only right that I should share all of me with you. So now I will have no secrets from you, I will give you my all because I know, without your hand to take, I will surely fall.

But please, take care of that piece you hold, see it for what it is: see it as a world of hope, of hate, of love, of grief. See all my faults, examine every flaw, dissect every thought that you should know me better. Once you have done all this, you can know whether you wish to give me back my heart, or whether perhaps you want to hold onto it a little longer, to help you decode the rest of me.

If you choose to hand it back, do so gently, and I'll not blame you. It is not a perfect creation and neither am I. Who would want something as mangled and maimed as me and my soul? Who would keep hold of a deranged mind like mine? Who could bear to be near a weak and blackened heart like mine? No, I would not be surprised in the least if you didn't want to keep it.

However, if you choose to keep it, please be even more gentle; I am such a tender creature and I injure easily. That small piece of me that you hold is existentially connected to the rest of me. Without one, the other ceases to be. Destroy my mind and I'll be driven mad for all the beasts left there. Break my heart and I'll have nothing to love you. Burn my soul and the demons will come out to play, free of their prisons and leashes. After all that, I can only hope to live to speak of it. But my existence would be pointless.

So be kind with me. Please.

Not much to say...

Just not feeling it again today. Maybe there's some overlay from yesterday, maybe I'm just not pumped enough about tonight, who knows? All I know is this:

I never could get the hang of Thursdays...

a small reminder

There is a song that I like on an album I love by an artist I adore and it seems to pretty well sum up today's feelings. A few of the most appropriate lines being:

Anything could happen and it probably will. Why does my stomach feel like it's just eaten food that don't agree? I have to tell myself to slow down, it's early days still.

The whole 'Early Days' album is awsome, but this song is really me today. Thanks, Mr Hanlon.