Wednesday, December 01, 2010

A Story That Randomly Formed Itself.

It feels like a river running dry of its greenest clear color- thrown in its belly the essence of murkiness that eventually stirs in density to the body of water and later causes the soil to drink it sip by sip until it remains a land- cracked and chapped with no evidence of the moisture that once bathed it. It is how my heart feels when I look back at all the good memories, and am reminded that so they shall rest as only keepsakes; for we are no longer reliving them because now it seems we have grown so far apart. But we have let it come to this. Everything takes work. We couldn’t have been so naïve to think that things will just fall into their right place like little girls putting together jigsaw puzzles.

Back when we didn’t have it, we worked so hard to get it. Now that we’re there, we are clueless as to where else to go, so we keep walking in our own circles while we could have set out for a new, better direction together.

The spark has died. All the flowers died with it too. And us.

This is what I didn’t want for myself but you had me- to think that perhaps with you we could be different. And I let you. So what do I do now when even you are not the answer I want?

I am going to say goodbye. I am not one to stay and say “we’ll work this out somehow” and leave it be at that. It need not be difficult, but it is not without effort as well.

He took my goodbye in silence- like a boy holding in his tears. But he let me go.

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