Spent quite literally the whole day today with my church friends having fun.
Well, I don't deny that I had fun, but its just that now at this point, I feel kind of guilty. Although I was out there enjoying with you guys, I find myself thinking about someone else, wishing that you were here...
So yes. Here I sit as the day draws to a close. Two days since I last heard from you...
Bittersweet end to an unorthodox day indeed...
As this day draws to a close. This day in which I hear not of you. This day I spent wondering if I should contact you. Yet I chose to wait and see, I chose to sit where I was and allow time to trudge on.
And here I am. Sitting on my bed once more. 15 minutes till the date changes, and all I find myself pondering, am I as important to you, as you are to me?
I highly doubt so.
Nevertheless, I find myself missing you.
My sweet lullaby.
This is getting bad....
Whu do I do this to myself?
Why do I always fall for the difficult types?
Why are relationships so difficult for myself?
Once again. I am going crazy.
What does it mean when I find myself thinking of you whnever there is even a morsale of time for my mind to roam?
When I am alone, when there is nothing to distract me, my touts stray of to centre around you. Your eyes, your face, your voice...
I don't know what is wrong with me anymore, I can't help but leap for joy everytime I receive a message or hear your voice. And when I don't hear from you, I find myself wondering what would you be doing while I'm just here thinking about you.
I seem to yearn for your company, I would like to make you feel special, to protect that wondrous smile of yours.
I don't know. Maybe some of my friends are right, and being friends is better... but I'm not sure if I can trust those words as they are the very ones I see settling down, leaving me alone in this realm of time long past.
I can't stop thinking about you.
Even as I hear of some eyeraising stories from a friend of mine, although said story is one of tensions and heartache, why do I see one of affection, care and happiness? Why do I see things through rose-tinted lenses?
I know of the potential pitfalls. I know of the dangers. I know of the storms headed my way. Yet my heart is trying to drag me headfirst into it all, and I'm not complaining at all.
All in search of a place of refuge. Somewhere with someone who can save me. From myself.
For two days I could not concentrate on anything else.
For two days I viewed the world through rose-tonted lenses.
For two days, the once lonely nights were warm and fuzzy.
For two days I lived a dream.
For two days I've tasted the sweetest fruit,
Felt whole for once.
I thought that I have finally found my safe haven,
My coven of rest.
But alas! It is not to be.
Swept away by reality,
Based upon misunderstandings,
What else do I have left but the emptiness that reigns from before?
Before my dream, I lived with that emptiness within.
That void that I have grown to accept,
To hide away.
But now that I jave tasted the sweet drug,
I can no longer hide that emptiness.
Once again,
Void overcomes.
I do not blame anyone.
I cannot.
She said that I am a rare, dying breed.
An individual pure and innocent.
Yet I do not feel as such.
Scars run deep within me.
How can I ever be whole when all I know is pain and regret?
All I want is a place I may rest.
A place of refuge for a broken heart.
A cause to fight for.
A treasure to protect.
I feel like a wondering swordsman.
Wandering aimlessly,
Not knowing where he is going,
Or why he weilds his sword.
A swordsman who has no reason to draw his blade,
A swordsman with nowhere to go.
But how many can really live such a wandering life?
This swordsman has been searching for a refuge.
A princess to protect.
A princess to give his life for.
And finally, when the battle is over,
A place to rest is head.
I am not sure if anyone would see this.
But I care not no more.
This is where I pour my feelings.
My only place of refuge.
A place where I can hide in a corner and lick my wounds.
Sometimes I wonder why does this always happen to me.
Why am I such a pathetic prick.
WHY ALWAYS ME.
If my story were to be a book, it would be a pathetic comedy of a guy who fails at being a man.
I feel like crying.
I feel like crying my heart out once more.
But even this I cannot.
Even this,
I have to steel my heart and get my ass to work.
And when I finally do get a chance to cry,
Let it be known that it is not caused by pain inflicted by her.
But of lamentations of how useless I am.
How pathetic I can be.
Let me wallow once more in self-despair,
Once more allow me to laugh while I cry at my own incompetence.
Like a fisherman that caught a rare fish,
I marvels at it, takes a photo with it,
Then throws it back into the sea.
But what if the fish hated the sea.
What if said fish wanted to be caught, brought home and fed to a family for lunch?
She said I deserved better.
But that broke my heart all the same,
For she is the best.
I don't understand anymore.
My head hurts as much as my heart.
To laugh while you cry,
That is the most painful thing to do.
And I cannot help but constantly revisit this reality.
For it is the only reality I know of for certain.
For I may seem joyful outside.
But deep within,
I break.
Once again, I travel home in solitude.
But for once I do not feel alone.
Somethings are better not known. Somethings are beyter not shown, left unsaid and vaulted forever.
Some answers are impossible to find. Some are rare like angel dust.
On this rainy night, I ask myself, is this when dreams become a reality? When finally, my dear friend would be right, and me gladly mistaken?
The answer I know not, and only time will tell where this uncharyed path will take me.
Come. Spirit me away. And when the storms fade, let me find solace in your sweet lullaby.
