Skip to main content

I was a heavy heart to carry but he never let me down

long ago it must be, I have a photograph
preserve your memories, they're all that's left.
Been thinking a lot about that next step. About finding a place to call a home of my own. To be able to fall asleep only saying goodnight and not goodbye.
Our one year is coming up soon. Two weeks away. It's been an incredible year, and I've grown substantially in these past 12 months. But I'm still that shy little girl, timid and afraid. I have my anxieties, my fears. I know he's mine as much as I'm entitled to him, and I am his as much as he is willing to have me. But the smallest of things sends tears down my cheeks, and I often don't know why. I suppose, having so much of my heart on the line, if something were to cut that line, a large percentage of myself would be gone forever, fallen to the bottom of the lake. But it's not even that. It's that I think I've found the right one. the right key to unlock me.
Every day spent by his side he opens another door inside. I've developed a strong attachment to him, to say the least. And I don't want anything to ruin that. The smallest of things that sends tremors through our tough foundations will unsettle me. and the floodgates dissolve in the acidic fear that sets in. I get anxiety attacks, and I cry for such silly reasons. But in the end everything gets resolved, the flood banks patched up, and life goes on.
I know that our love is stronger than any earthquake, any flood or any natural disaster. I'd brave a hurricane for him.
Oh no, I'm getting horribly cliche.

Let's wrap this up, shall we?
If I ever have to say goodbye, I want it to be with my last breath.

Comments

pihzaz said…
wow.

we are so much alike dre. so fukin' much. did you know that? 'I get anxiety attacks, and I cry for such silly reasons.'....

the last line is incredible.
December 28, 2010 at 1:11 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

neighborhood nights

I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough ...
2 comments
Read more

zip.

I dread human contact. I absolutely hate it. I hate having to think of something to say, hate having to feign interest and sympathy. It's a stressful situation and I don't even know why. I guess it's the culmination of all my antisocial tendencies over the years. Once you get into a habit it gets harder and harder to change as time goes by. I've always been the shy one, the quiet one. The exception is my friends. I'm talkative and at ease with the people I like. I love my friends and I love having friends, but I dread making them. It's like it's too much effort to be worth it. All the awkward getting to know eachothers and stuff, I'd rather just avoid it completely. But it's getting me into trouble. People think I'm arrogant, too good to talk to them. Or that I hate them. Such is the case with my mother. She's been living at her parent's house, and so I rarely see her. That suited me fine, because less interactions the better. So whenever...
2 comments
Read more

Home

I looked back at blog entries, and even though the subject matter was less than pleasant to be reminded of, it was still good, I'm glad I have written reminders so I have points of reference to gauge my growth. And I've come far. I often feel like I've had three stages in my life. The first was with Brent, and though I was a newborn in love's eyes, I soon grew to an extremely old age. My heart was always cracked and my spirit became dulled. I became clogged with darkness, became tired and dragged myself through the days. But I never stopped. I stubbornly sacrificed myself each day for someone whom I thought it was going to help. I was wrong. The first day of my second stage was the day I stopped caring about him and finally focused on myself. I was free, and I was drunk with it. Too drunk. I dove into something that made me happy, too quick. I soon realized there were other ways to get hurt. this stage wasn't that defining, though I began to learn to take things as ...
2 comments
Read more