late nights and loud fights
it's all just a blur

8:09 a.m. | 2005-10-12
Such Is Life

This is fall. This is my season.

When I was younger I was summer. Swimming pools and ditch diving. Living in bathing suits and off of popsicles. Foam in the backyard, bubble mowers, tonka trucks. I was summer.

Now that I've grown a bit I'm fall. Romance and lovers. Watching the leaves change and biking in the rain. Cold tinged thighs, soft melodic songs, love. I am fall.

And this season touches me so deeply. So much that I'm opening my mouth again for reasons misunderstood (even by myself). And offering myself to people that don't need to hold my burden (I'm sorry).

This past week has been non-stop in both movement in thought. It's not enough that I'm rushing around from place to place it needs to also be that I'm having my heart ripped to pieces because of the season and thinking about all of the things I'll do tomorrow and all of the things I did yesterday. Last week. A year ago.

I cringe now as I think of people I shouldn't be thinking of (a step forward). I'm an opportunist still so I foolishly run down paths I should be walking on tripping and falling to the ground (a step backward).

And I'm not sure if that's better or worse.

I think the worst has hit when I think about how at the very least when he was abusing my heart I had time to get it all out there. I had time to explain to him my fears and my upsets and everything that was in my mouth and my eyes. I could tell him that I was afraid that first time I left and he would smile and tell me that it was silly, that I would be fine.

I'm glad his claws aren't on me anymore. I'm glad I don't sweat at his touch or sigh at his glance. That's healthy. But he's gone. I have no one to bare my soul to so I end up wearing it on my back like a t-shirt emblem, only letting some see it (and inevitably the wrong ones). Most just look at you funny when you do it but you feel like in an instant you've vomited your entire soul (left weak and pale and confused and wishing it had never happened).

It's like closing your eyes and wishing it had never happened. I'll never wish that it hadn't happened, but I sure wish that I had control over it. I'm sorry.

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