Untitled Artwork

kick me.

you seem to hide
behind what happened.
happened.
happened.
and i wonder if i just don't get it.
if you really need that much more time to heal.
or if you hold on to the pain because it's the only thing you know.
because you feel like it gives you a voice and something worth saying.
i don't know.
i don't know what i think.

or maybe here is what i think:
there is a type of beauty that is so closely bound to pain, that we hold onto the pain for fear of losing the beauty.
we think our pain defines us.
validates us.
makes us more human than we were before we experienced it.
but if we can't let go eventually,
if we can't move beyond that,
it's just killing us faster than we are already dying.
then we can't see the beauty that lies beyond the pain, that will satisfy us so much more.

me, i don't want that.
i will lay my pain to rest.
and if it means doing so continually, that is what i choose.
otherwise, i become bitter all over again.
i beat myself up for being unforgiving when, in fact, i forgive/forgave/will continue in doing so and he could only say the words "i'm sorry " once.
i don't want to grow up hard.
i don't want to wake up twenty years from now, realizing i'm alone and it's because i've refused anything new in exchange for a wound i've nursed for far too long.
i want to let things go, and i want to be vunerable.
pain has it's place, and it's inevitable, but i don't want it to control me so that i can't let anyone or anything new in;
to the point that i create a shell that grows harder by the day, until i convince myself i need no one.
i'm just rambling now.

basically, i'ts three in the morning, i've been thinking of you, and for some reason i woke up to clean out the garage.

i just want you to be better.

3:14 a.m. - 2003-04-11

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

a legit email address

random entry

other diaries:

browndamask