Excerpts I'll Never Tell

Crumbs

04:47AM

I want to see if you're awake... but I'm not your problem anymore. Today hurts and sucks. Without comprehension or words. I feel like a lot of the time I'm withholding emotionally a lot of what's there... I guess. Today it slipped through, and I cried some more. I don't think it's hit yet, but it's always worse at night. Especially now that I have fragments of you in my bed.

I don't feel happy about my accomplishments like they haven't even happened, just a lot of heartache. I tried closing doors slowly and surely making sure they were shut, to be able to move forward correctly. Like finding scraps on the floor and you keep cleaning whenever you see a crumb, to ensure it's all gone. However, I went about it wrong.

Now I'm here and it hurts. I don't know. This is incomplete, like a part of me. I don't know if I'll ever finish it. I just know that I'm here, existing, and at night, it hits the worst.

I'll turn to old measures, and try to find the throbbing remnants that helped. Whether that be a comfort show, a book, or lonesome. I'll choke back my grief and leave it to you. I'll pull back, and be alone from all. Just leave me here to throb in the remnants of the past, that helped because, at night, it hits the worst.

And again I've thought of deleting this in the fear of rejection or judgment. I recognize this, and won't delete it to ensure my feelings are on paper for me to see and reflect on, even if it doesn't solve the underlying issue.

I got cowardly and deleted this, now I'm back here again.

Can I fight for you? I want to. I really, really do. I don't know how to. The extremes or the little. Do I go there? Do I apologize? Do I say what's on my heart? What if I'm rejected again? What if I get stranded? What if I'm rejected? I'm waiting some time to give you space as you asked, but no, I'm not done, done. My future is with you, I want that, and I know that.

There isn't anyone else, and that's why the doors of my past were to be shut, crumbs and all, connections and all. Piece by piece.

My love for you is different this time too, but is still the same.