Notes

Four In The Morning. 2014

Four in the morning and I'm dreaming with my eyes open and my mind begging to be free of these walls. I'm painting a dream for myself, a picture of the past. I try to recreate what I once felt. The smile I attempt to plaster onto my face feels foreign and the fluttering I force in my stomach makes me want to puke rather than making me blush. The hope, that fire, oh how I wan't to light it once more, if only for the remainder of the night. I want to conjure up your face and watch you pace the room as a ghost, a fragment of my memory, at least for a while, just to keep me company until the stars fade once more. Help, did someone take my matches, I want to ignite the passion I once had inside me. I'd kindle the embers if they too weren't cold and gray, but all that's left of me is ashes. This doesn't feel right. I try to pretend like it's still December and that you're not gone, just asleep, and I'm here waiting for your text like I always would. And I'd never let on how sad I felt having to say goodnight every time, knowing that you were already dreaming and that you didn't want to stay up to talk to me as much as I always did. No, I never told you, just said sweet dreams with a smile and lay in the dark waiting for enough time to pass for me to be able to write to you again and say I just got up a little early, when in truth I hadn't slept at all. No, it doesn't feel right to pretend that you still want me; this little happy flutter of fake wings in my heart is weighed down with guilt, because I know I have no right to think of you like that anymore. Anything you ever saw in me is gone now, which makes me realize with a morbid laugh, even if you came back for the girl you once knew, she'd be gone, replaced by a wreck, an already detonated minefield inside a human body. Even if you changed your mind, if you saw me now, you'd turn away in disgust. Nothing about me appeals and you'd catch on sooner or later that I'm just faking. I'm not the girl you fell in and out of love with. I'm just trying to be her again, because even if you don't miss her, I really do. I'm just a wasteland of sadness and the winds blow across me, picking thing up, dropping things off according to their needs. I guess I don't mind though, at least I'm not completely useless. Or maybe that's just what I'd like to believe. Maybe I'm still trying to find a reason to live, funny how I never had to look far when you were around. So now I sit here in the dark and realize the clock has struck, another hour's passed and I'm still dreaming. I was always a dreamer, wasn't I? Even now, I dream, although in black and white. At least that part of me remains. Except I went from vivid colors to shades of gray. How ironic that you once told me I deserved someone who wasn't like that, and here I am. I wouldn't have deserved even my old self if what you said was true. The tears have stopped now. They don't last long these days. I miss how I used to cry for hours, when I used to feel so much, when I got hurt so easily. I was so soft, but now I wonder if I'm even alive. I don't want more things on my body to remind me why I'm not good enough, so I don't dare pick up that blade, just dig my nails into my flesh until everything goes numb like my world, and the pain fades into nothing, just like the traces of it will by morning. No one ever sees, no one will ever realize the pain isn't even skin deep, that no blood is spilled but I still feel myself being shredded inside and out. Well I'd write yet another story about the girl we both hoped you'll find someday, just like those days when I tried to make myself feel better, but I'm not in the mood to plainly admit that I know it won't ever be me. Well I guess I'm done dreaming, seeing as it's all gone back to reality. But oh how I want to feel it all again. How much I miss the fear and thrill of jumping of the ledge into the great unknown, the glimmer of hope that there's something wonderful at the bottom of the abyss I'm falling into, and that you'd be there till the end and longer. Remember how you told me to take a leap of faith and follow my heart? Well I did and now I'm blundering through the forest blindly, because somewhere along the way, you let go and left me on my own, taking my heart with you as you left, leaving me with nothing to follow. Is there an end somewhere here or am I going to wander around like this for eternity? Please tell me that this is just for now, that I just need to hang in there until you return, and that you'll be there at the end of it all, waiting patiently for me and all I have to do is find a way to you, and that you'd want me again and that maybe this time you would truly fall in love. That this time, you wouldn't make me cry, that this time, there wouldn't be any more goodbyes. Please, tell me that. Tell me anything. Just break the silence.