Thursday, January 30, 2014

I don't know what exactly it was that seemed to hurt. Maybe it's watching the interaction between you both. It creates so many uninvited feelings and cruel reminders of how much he really never cared about me. How he listens to what you say and how openly you speak without fear of criticism. The kind of criticism he was so good at giving and when it was always so unwelcome. And I remain silent. I'm unwilling to listen to the criticism anymore. After 25 years, your heart find ways to protect itself.. so it hides. I stopped speaking but things still hurt. I don't know what hurts more that I allow this to affect me or that you don't see that what you're doing hurts more. It's almost like you get pleasure out of this. Like it makes you get some kind of satisfaction out of doing this. I get it.. you're the boy everyone adores. I understand that.. I'm guilty of it but it's the way you so unknowingly rub it in everyones face.

I wish really that the girl that cared about something still exsisted but I fear she is dead. I believed that once I was old enough I would take off, drive off into the sunset
away from everything and I would be free. Like arms flying up out of an old convertible with some song that stirred emotion and made me feel alive and I would scream at the top of my lungs not for any reason but because I could.. I would stop on some moutain side and watch the stars, go skinny dipping in a lake in the middle of the night even if it was freezing, the cold would be a reminder that I'm alive and I could still feel. I would get back on the road singing as loud as I possibly could and I would finally feel it. I would be free.
That was the dream.. not to grow up and become rich or have some important job title and nine to five job where my soul could go everyday to die. It was simple.. I wanted to make my break. Sounds pretty easy right?

And yet I'm here.

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