Tales Of Another Missed Opportunity

I took this photo on the day that I'm writing about here. I couldn't believe the sky could be so perfect when all I wanted to do was disappear.
I took this photo on the day that I’m writing about here. I couldn’t believe the sky could be so perfect when all I wanted to do was disappear.

I wish I could explain my lack of courage during certain situations. I wish I could, in some way, recreate everything I was feeling during that one day so I’m not sitting here, fumbling for the right words yet knowing that no matter how I describe it, no one will ever feel the misery I was feeling two weeks ago. But I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. I wish I could tell you that I’m over it now. I wish there was a way to not make me look so fucking pathetic, but there isn’t. I also wish there was a way for me to feel through these things without writing about them, but if I don’t, I suffocate.

I wish I could explain it but the only way I know how, knowing what I know today in this moment, is that someone, in some way, was possibly protecting me. Maybe it was God, trying to show me that He never left me but after everything that’s happened within the past 10 months, we’re not on good speaking terms…so, I wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t know if He was trying to tell me something because there were times when I thought that’s what was happening but it turned out to be just me telling myself what I wanted to hear. I can’t trust in anything anymore.

This is just another event I will carry with me. I wish I could tell you that I’ve moved on from certain situations, and at times it feels like I have, but once something happens, it all crashes down on me and everything that has ever crushed me piles on top of the other until I can’t bear it anymore. All I know is, I’m too sensitive for this shit.

While it was happening, I had to write it out. In the moment, I wondered if I’d ever forgive myself. I wondered if it would still sting days down the line. I saved it so I could remember. I look back on it now and it feels like another life yet here I am two weeks later, catching myself sobbing in public places. You’d think after past events I’d know better. Yet there I went, looking for another wound to add to my collection.

I do this to myself, I know. I know I should be kinder to myself. I should shut any emotion involving love or compassion out. But I can’t. And the more I love the more I hurt.

I guess it just wasn’t meant for me. The truth is, nothing is.

Screenshot_2016-03-29-22-13-17
Now that typo is bothering me more than anything…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


“And he said, ‘I’ve lost my head.” Can you see it?

Belly aches while you’re in bed. Can you feel it?”

 

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