25 ноември, 2014

that was then, but then it's true

Proud? Definately not. Happy? I hope.
Well, there's been an interesting turn of events which got me confused. Hence, the quiet. I'm scared of how things will turn out, how it will feel, will it be worth it, or will it hurt ten times worse. I guess I tempted fate when I said I'll never get back to this. I always do that. It doesn't feel wrong. It feels like the start of something in a way, but I'm still not sure how it will turn out. I've been known for my bad choices, so meybe I have my answer. But I guess my lessons weren't enough, the pain was not enough and I need more. 
It's like I wanted this, but didn't. I feel like it's what I want, but for me personately it should be a step back. A relapse. It is a chance, because things are different now, but I'm even scared that I may fail things. There things you just know. It may not be the best way, or the right one, but you always have your choice. I've always been one to go for that choice and not wonder later what could have happened. It's happening.
There are still so many things to talk about, to clear out. We grew up and apart in many ways but somehow we made it back to each other one way or the other. I helped in my own way, but it was not my idea. Which makes me proud. Of course, in many ways I am not. Because I'm back where I started, but in the same time I am not. I've learned a lot in those two years and I may have changed, but it's for the better, I hope. Maybe this is a mistake. Hell, maybe I've gone completely insane for actually letting it happen. But I'm doing it anyway and hoping for the best, as always. He is my north. 

24 ноември, 2014

no (easy) way out

The reason why I allowed myself to be so honest in the previous post is because I've been experiencing the same things for a while. For a whole week actually. And I feel sick of it, because I realise what I'm doing but I still can't help it. My throat still aches with sobs, my nails dig into my skin to try and anchor me to reality and I'm having a hard time believing i actually had that conversation last week. I feel like I'll get another hate message anytime now and I'll come back to find him calling me, as if I never ended it and reality as a whole is something I can't comprehend. I mean, I know what is real, but it doesn't feel real sometimes. It's the reading thing. 
Without a conscious intention I made sure I know where are you at all times. It's called stalking, I know, but it's just easy for me to check your shifts at work. The days go by and nothing happens. I don't want to be waiting, but I am and it never felt so bad. I find myself fighting back tears and wanting to escape my own thoughts. I don't wan to have any hope. I've lied enough times to be punished for it and not have you back. In fact, I do think having you back will be the best punishment, but it's something I want and I never get what I want without lying and manipulating for it. I actually remember having this bad feeling. Like things were off. I've been wanting to be in Sofia and to be living together and when it happened I was supposed to be happy, but it never felt quite right. Or it did at first, for a while before we got screwed up. 
You know, it's one thing to know you're completely and permanently fucked up and another to actually feel it. I felt it a week ago. And I've been feeling it ever since. The moment he held me and I whispered through tears: "You're still you?", knowing the answer myself. He was. He was his old self, the old self I fell for. And it was only then that I realised I wasn't still me. I was a shadow of whatever I once was. A bitter, cynical, sarcastic version of myself that couldn't even feel guilty about lying to the boy that cared about her because of the boy who didn't. I couldn't feel guilty the next day when I talked to him. I wanted to feel bad, I wanted to feel hurt but I didn't. I just gave up on him, because the previous night I have given up on me. On whatever hope I had to get over this. I won't. Not completely anyway. 
So hello my dark thoughts and old habits. At least we are old friends now and we have no trouble existing with each other. It sucks when the one thing that can truly fix you is the thing breaking what is left of you. It sucks that I gave up on the person who was okay with all of it. It sucks, because I also gave up on me. I want to scream and burn things and call you at 4 in the morning and tell you every curse word I know and then to pathetically beg for you to come. I want to do something, because I've never been one to wait for things to happen. But at this point doing something is only going to cost me and I have nothing else to give but what little sanity I have, so instead I will do my best to write and not do stupid things, avoid giving in to the dark thoughts (which are oh, so tempting) and also not involve any more people into this mess. Until I get sick of this to a point where I no longer care and my brain shuts mu emotions for good, the way I believed it had up until a week ago. Well, my choices will always be my prison. 

23 ноември, 2014

some things you just can't fix

Reading Mara sure doesn't help me stay sane. I remember the summer days when I had to get up early and go to work. I remember writing here, drinking coffee, poisoning myself with nicotine and finding it hard to breathe. Why? Because in those few hours I was all alone with my thoughts and I had to convince myself that it was all true and we were no longer together. We were just a story, part of the past. There were days I had to repeat this to myself a hundred times while pretending to be okay and placing a smile on my lips as people walked in and walked out. I pretended to be sane, for the sake ot believeing it myself. 
Then there were days when I'd call and you'd be sleepy and I'd ask you what you want for breakfast and would get you something special and kiss you. Then the reality would set in again and I'd be trying to decide which side to fight for - the real or the insane one. Of course, when you are awake things are different. It's only in that half asleep moment that I can believe my own insanity and have you. Then it would all be over and I'd have to bite my lips instead of kissing you, I'd have to hit the wall every time I need a hug and I'd have to end the call before I realise I'm dialing your phone number. The waking up isn't the hardest part, when your heart is broken. It's everything else. 
It's the realisation in the morning when I fight my own sense of reason. I think our fight wasn't real and that it was a bad dream, so I have to convince myself it was real. This took about two hours. Then I can call a friend and have them tell me what they did the day before and I don't really have to talk or think, which is bliss. But then work comes and I have tobe alone with my thoughts again. My painful thoughts with my mind which is broken and keeps telling me none of it happened, while I know it did. I somehow make it during my shift and then I have to find something to do, because the rest of the day I am locked up in our room full of our memories and all your things and you ignoring me, if I am lucky. So I start calling people again and find a reason to go out so as not to go completely insane and do something stupid. Stupid came later, when you weren't there. If I make it to the night without crying, I'm a hero. I never was. It was hard to breathe and my throat felt like someone was choking me from trying to stop the tears and the sobs. 
On a lucky night you'd be there and I'd cry and you'd be trying to comfort me, while I realise that you shouldn't. On the not so lucky ones, you'd be out and I'd have to yet again fight my urge to call you or get so drunk I can't even remember my own name. I would eventually let Asha chew at my hand and would let her play with my hand till my hands were bleeding but I never felt a thing. 
Then he showed up. And I had something else to worry about, so I guess it was fine with me. I didn't have to stay home, I wasn't all by myself with my crazy thoughts and the need to remind myself of what is real and what isn't. My mind was busy thinking about him, so it gave up on you. Then you kept hurting me to the point where no tears would come. I'd stand there feeling completely numb while looking at a photo. That's when the really stupid came. My hand should have hurt where it touched a memory. I should have been on the ground crying and letting it all out. I should have felt pain, I should have choked on the sobs and the tears. I didn't. So I found my way into old habits until I felt it along with the burning of the only drink I had in the room. It wasnever enough. It would all be over the next day and I needed it to last, to remind me that i can still feel things. 
Then there would be those other moments when I'd be having a nightmare and I'd wake up crying and all alone and I'd be doing that stupid thing before even realising it. I wouldn't feel a thing for some time. I only know what I've done after it's done. Then some feeling would come, usually that I'm late and reality calls. So I fake normal and have yet another day of pretending to be okay and dying on the inside. 
That was only then... 

should know better, but i dont

Do you miss me while you are out there looking for yourself?

I've been avoiding my own thoughts for a while, but I guess I might as well set them free here and hope they don't run around in my head anymore than they already do. So, I've been thinking... Maybe part of me actually want you to screw up. That way I have yet another reason (not that I don't have enough) to never look back. Yes, I know. I always look back and you are my north and whatever. I am Fia and I can't for the life of me understand how you were supposed to be the right thing and you turned out to be so wrong. I am collateral damage of your relationship with her. He is collateral damage of my relationship with you. We are all dominos falling for each other. 
I don't want to be in this. I don't want to be involved, I don't want to be waiting for you to make a choice, but here I am waiting anyway. Well, not exactly, but still thinking about it. 
I thought I'd be free from it all. Now I not only feel like the world's biggest idiot for having the constant annoying thought of you in my head, but I also feel guilty for giving him a chance. I actually hoped for that chance. I wanted it to work. I wanted to not come back to this. I wanted to be free. I wanted the world. I still do. But there is this... 
It's like you know the morning after that you are going to regret something. But you also know that if you don't give it a try, you will be wondering for the rest of your life. I hate that part, so I usually go for it and then think about it. Of course, there are no regrets that I'd admit. Not until there is a final draw or whatever. I am this close to screwing everything up and destroying whatever soul I got left. I'm going to hell anyway. I deserved losing him. He didn't deserve me to hurt him, but I gave my best to prevent that from happening. Hopefully, I was a good lesson and he learns the way I obviously haven't. I am also this close to actually doing something about it and forcing things, but I don't want to play any part in your decision. 
And as bad as it may sound, there is this pathetic little voice inside of me that still hopes you come back, that you care, that you miss me and that you're not just lonely. Well, I never said I learned. Plus, I'm a sucker for lost causes and you are the perfect one. What's annoying is that I realise how bad my choice is. I know how bad it is that I forgave the second you showed up even before you apologised. I know it, but my stupid broken thingy still wants you for some unknown reason. I want the hard part, I want to trust you again and try, rather than the hardest - get over it. Because you are not like him. I don't have two weeks with you, I have two years and even more. I have too many memories, too many nights and days with you... I even counted them once and wrote it down. Pathetic, as usual. Anyway, I need sleep now, because I really want to read Mara tomorrow, while drinking my coffee. And less sleep deprivation leads to less thinking, so I will sleep while I can, because I have plans not to sleep next week. 

21 ноември, 2014

case (not) closed

I haven't written two posts in a row for so long, but I kind of feel like it tonight. I was supposed to be asleep by now. I am not. My own bad habit turned into a nightmare when I remember how good it felt to be inhaling the smoke from someone else's lips. My mind keeps playing games with me is all. A lot of things need to change for you but you need to have the courage to actually change them. I've heard all the speeches before. I know you mean it all, but you love changing your mind. The more I think about it using my brain and not my heart, the more I realise it's pointless and I should not be standing here like the world's biggest idiot waiting for you to realise that you don't simply need someone, but that you need me. And not need, like you will survive without me, but need like the world won't matter if I'm not there. The sane part of me is hoping it's just a period and nothing happens. The insanity having your name, however, is begging me to do something stupid every now and then. The sleep issue is not helping either. Now is the time for me to drown in my sleep and I'm back a few months where I started. Then I can be like Veronica and say: "Hello again, square one!" Well, I'm already there, it seems. 

waiting for nothing

Sleep deprivation is my new best friend, it appears. I couldn't care less about my classes, I'm way behind on all the things I have to do. My writing ideas can't live around my thoughts. All I got is Mara and her own insanity to keep me company, which I have to admit is pretty good in its own way. 
I am doing this thing again with the over-thinking. There is no point. I'm ... Stuck. Which turns into a theme of how my life goes. I never wanted to be the girl who can't get over a guy, but here we are, so I might as well join the world and write about it. I am waiting for nothing really, because if someone doesn't know if he wants you in his life, then he obviously doesn't. Or, optimistically speaking, he can't realise that he can't live without you. It takes time to realise that sometimes. But I was never that lucky. And I'm pretty sure he doesn't miss me, but the idea of someone like me who gets him completely and let's him walk all over my heart and feelings just because he can. Will I ever learn from that mistake and stand up for myself?!
Annie was right that I can't just sit and study. Hell, I can't even read the damn book without the thought of him interrupting me. I was over this. He wasn't supposed to show up. I know they always do, but I kept all the bad stuff so I can be immune to it. To him. And then he had
to say all those things and look at me with those damn green eyes... Nope, apparently, I never learn. He actually wanted me to call him when I'm a mess, so he can be here for me the way he wasn't back then. But I am doing myself a favour and drawing a big red line to stop me from doing so. I can't hear any alarms and there are no stop signs, so I will put them myself. I may not be functioning properly ever since that night, I may be sleep-deprived, I may be in need of sleep (and wanting to kick myself for the thought of someone holding me), but I will not cross my own line. I did that too many times already. It's time for you to cross lines for me and to want me. And since you most certainly don't, I might as well begin to learn again how to do things on my own and do my best to escape the thought of you that keep torturing me and the seemingly vague at first but then all too vivid memory of your lips on mine, of your touch... Yeah, off to bed now, stupid mind of mine!

20 ноември, 2014

killing me would be too easy

A week ago I had a plan to end things with my question marks and to have all my time dedicated to writing and being dark and twisty. Of course, it is never the case. Whenever I call a last week of something, there is another and another. Whenever I feel like the drowning is over, a new wave hits. I am not even sure which way is up and I honestly couldn't care less. It's like, when I'm out of it, I keep looking for a way to get back in and when I'm finally in, I can't hold still, I can't control my thoughts, my breathing, my previously locked up emotions that are now completely free and all around me. 
And for the life of me, I can't help but feel both broken and alive again. Yep, there goes my theory that what is killing us is also making us feel more alive in its own sick and twisted way. 
You must be like the cigarette I am smoking yet again, so I can regain some control over myself and for just a second forget about you. Pleasure and poison at the same time. I've always had a thing for such things. I can't even write about it, because I am still too close to it all. 
Do you actually think I want to wait for you?! I wanted him and all his innocence, I wanted to be whole and happy and not look back. But no, you had to show up out of nowhere to test my defences and no surprise, they failed me yet again. I actually had the hope that I can fix myself and fall for the right guy, the one who would never hurt me. Well, you used to be that guy. But no, I had to start thinking about you again and you had to show up at exactly this moment, so you can mess with my head again. I don't want to wait for you. I want to be able to move on and learn my lesson and never look back. I don't want to want you. I don't want to remember all the good times. I want to remember just the bad ones. But when I see you and we start talking about some ordinary things, I see it again - the reason I liked the idea of us so much. And you had to use that smile and look at me that way. You had to say all those things only to slap me with the ghost of her and the reality that you are still not sure if you want me. Well, I never said it would be easy. It will be worth it, sure. But when was I into the easy things anyway. This is probably the reason why I found him boring and ordinary. Yes, he was special in his own way, but I am way too crazy to get used to that. 
You, on the other hand make me want to hit you and kiss you in the same time. You make me want to torture you and whisper things in a low voice, while being oh, so close to you. You sure will be my ghost if nothing else. Thanks for that! As if I wasn't insane enough before, now my insanity has your name. It's late and I can't fall asleep, I can't wake up in the morning, I can't function properly all day because the annoying thought of you keeps showing up and if it's not that, there is another message waiting for me to see it and curse you over and over again. 
If not else, I will sure try to write you out of my system. Because I should not want you back, I know that. I may not love you any more, but I don't love you any less either. 

15 ноември, 2014

sanity suits me just fine

I guess it's that time of the night when my thoughts flood my mind and the urge to type begins yet again. I sure as hell needed that week of having fun and not sleeping all that much. I also needed to get a bit drunk and sing loudly my favourite songs, to have epic conversations about books and music and to finally drown in my own insanity. Today I feel sane. I feel like me again. It took a couple of hours of reading to get me back on track with my plans, ideas, inspiration. 
The feeling may disappear soon with yet another mess but right now I know exactly what I want and I'm completely comfortable with my own thoughts. They are a good company when not mixed with the thoughts of certain people in my life that are still question marks in my world full of words. They don't fit - none of them. I want them to, each in a different way, but not enough to make me not freak out at the thought. 
Yes, last night wasn't my finest but I need the chaos of my emotions to drown me, just so I make sure I can still swim. It's funny how that one time I dreamt of drowning, I was talking to one of the said question marks and his company made me feel safe and relaxed in some weird way. Of course, that was probably my subconsciousness telling me that my other question mark who should be a full-stop but probably won't ever be, is not right for me the way I thought and wanted him to be. The lack of options is easy. It's when you know you have to choose when the hard part begins. I choose myself!
I need to learn to choose myself over everyone else for a change. Well, not in the fully selfish way, but maybe close to it. So I am going with my own plans which I've had for a long time but always ignored because someone else was more important. Who knew caring would turn into a flaw?!
What I am doing now, is letting the question marks find their own answers. Sure, I'd very much like to help, but I'd rather not. Because then it will be my choice again and my decisions haven proven to not be very smart lately. I'm done thinking. If something happens, I will decide. Since it hasn't happened, I will sit quietly in the comforting darkness and will think of Asha and how her purring made my day back then. It still would have, but if you love something, you can't keep it where it will be miserable. Now things are different, though. So I am also keeping the option of getting her back open.
I'm just calm and comfortable with myself and being by myself, which doesn't happen all that often and was worth mentioning. 

14 ноември, 2014

all the honesty I can handle

My black hole of a soul can't get high on emotions for long enough to forget all about the mess I've created for myself. And it's that time of the day when I kind of want it all back. I want to have the bad times, so I can also have the good ones. It took long enough for that to happen. The past comes back to hunt me and torture me some more. The present is making me ask myself why I wanted that kind of present and was it even my choice after all. And the future... I don't want one. I want to stay home all day, read books, watch TV-series and write some epic story. I want to meet awesome people and have conversations about books and music and to be inspired. 
Unfortunately, hardly anything registers above the 'I don't care' level. Hardly anything matters. Sometimes I'm pretty sure I don't matter, since all my efforts were in vain. Other times I think that I actually made it all this way... Made him this way. And while I'm sitting here feeling all gloomy about the past, he's out there doing who knows what with someone else. Well, that's life, I guess. Some people passing through your life only to leave a mess behind. 
I don't know what I want to hear. It's like... I want to have more reasons to keep walking and not turn back, but then I also want you to realise that I did matter. Funny thing is, if you hadn't realised it while I was around, how will you when I'm not. Well, I'm here. I'm in the exact same place. I took your part of the room, so I don't see it as your part of the room anymore. I kept hurting myself by wanting to know all the stuff you have been saying about me. And yet there is a part of me that still can't believe it's real, considering what we've been through. 
I know, okay. I only have one life and I shouldn't waste it on people who couldn't care less about me. But there were times when things were so great, I wanted them to last not for a lifetime, but for many more. And then there were times when I thought my chest would finally break or I'd go completely insane from all the dark thoughts and things happening. If it was meant to be, it wouldn't have been so hard. But I don't do easy. Simple and quiet is not for me. I am not quiet and easy. I am loud and hard to be around most of the time. And yet he was here. Then other people came along and ...
And today is supposed to be a happy day, but somehow isn't. I feel like something else is ending and I keep trying to give it a chance, but it's just not anything. There is no fire, no magic. There used to be for a while there and then I have no idea what happened. 
And this thing? I don't even want to go there. It's so messed up that I'm seriously considering escaping it all and simply being all by myself. Hell, I have awesome friends to keep me company when I'm happy or not so happy. What else do I need (slap me for the answer in my head)? My masochistic soul wants what it wants. It's trying to tell me that there can be a new way back for us and I hate that thought. Because of all the things he said and did. Because I am a damaged version of myself and I don't feel like I'm ever going to be fully myself again.
This thing has all it's ups and downs. It can either make me or break me. But I don't have the emotional capacity to deal with it. And I don't want to ruin anything again. It's bad enough that I ruined my past in some way, because it takes two to mess things up and I am soon going to mess up my present, because he just doesn't get me the way he used to. 
I can't stand my own thoughts most times. I do this thing over and over again. I say things and repeat them not so people would know, but so I can believe and accept them. I am constantly fighting my own twisted mind and it's thoughts of a way back. Well, not constant, but there is always a moment every now and then where I find myself thinking about it. I am a stalker also, so there goes that. 
If you can find a reset button for me and my brain and heart, please press it a few times, because I will soon lose what little is left of my sanity. 
PS. And how exactly do I handle the fact that we are strangers who have so much memories it kills me to want them gone? How do I let go of all that I believed would be my future? Yeah, I know. It happens and it's life and I should get over it. I know that. But I'll always be a prisoner of my own choices. The past will always hunt me and no matter what, I'm the girl who adores Blair and Chuck for no matter how much they hurt each other, they made it. I'm a sucker for that kind of stuff. Just because I know what my problem is, doesn't mean I can solve it. 

05 ноември, 2014

The irony of what-ifs

To much safety leads to mistakes. I should know. I am a poster teenage/adult for bad behaviours, wrong choices, making a mess out of life. Like mother like daughter. What led to all of this - safety. The one thing she will never understand, no matter how I try to explain. If she wasn't so devoted to keeping me safe and away for trouble, you'd never look for that trouble. If I had had what I wanted back then and all my 'never-happened' stories had actually happened, I'd have never wanted to live together and to create the mess I am now trying to get out of. Well, what's new around here. The things that never were shaped me and my choices.
My point is, don't ever tell people not to do this and that, unless you really want them to do it. Which is the whole core of my existence.
But let us not forget that what never happened also gave place to the things that did happen. And no matter how bad they turned out to be, I can't for the life of me regret them. I know myself all too well now and I realise that given the circumstances I'd still fight harder if I knew what would have happened. I am the girl that fights even when the odds are not in her favour. I am the girl that lives in the storm and hates the quiet, unless it's after midnight and I have a story that is begging me to write it. I am the girl who'd give anything to make him fit my world so that I could fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and not think for a second that I'll be both the best and the worst thing that ever happened to him. Well, let's face it now - I am.
I've been trying to work on my issues and forget about my fears, but it's not my fears that stand in the way. It's the need to have someone equally loud and wild. The need to ... Well, maybe I am right when I say that I need to lose him, so that I can appreciate him and what he has given me. Because the sane and wise part of me realises how good this is for me, but the wild side, which I am no longer hiding and trying to control, is telling me that I need someone with fire in his heart, the way I have. Now I understand why this place would have been scary for him. Here is where I say the things that I can't tell people. Also, it's the place where I tell myself how things are. But somehow giving him up would mean that there is no hope for me and my condemned soul. "What soul?" Teddy would say. I still hope I have one and hell, if I was able to learn to love all the other idiots of my past, why not the good guy that actually cares and tries to love me in spite all my craziness. It's what I wanted - to be loved for who I am. But maybe what I want and what I'm ready for are not the same things. Maybe I'm still learning to accept myself as a free and wild girl with fire in her heart and the courage to dance in the rain despite the storm. Maybe it will take me a while to get used to that freedom and not be afraid to lose it. Yes, there is so much fun in letting someone steal your sleep even if he is miles away from you, but maybe there is also fun to be on my own and let my true self find herself for real this time. 
Maybe, I'm too young to care, as the song goes. Well, no. I care. And I'm not too young for anything with my record. I'm not even too damaged. I'm just... Finally feeling free from all the mess of a life I've got and I'm afraid to not make yet another mess. Whatever it is, I am not even trying to figure it out. I am letting it settle for itself and I am enjoying my freedom for as long as I will have it. With my luck it sure won't last that long. 

make me lose my mind

The night is so beautiful at 4 am. It is such a waste that most people sleep at that time of peace and quiet. I have so many ideas in my head and so many responsibilities in the morning that... I am also going to waste many of my nights sleeping. But every now and then there will be 4 am. again and I will be awake with my own thoughts. My mind is peaceful almost. Time has passes and I still find myself drawn to all that has happened. I still feel the pain most days, the hatred that came along with all the things that happened. But I realise now that all of it will make me better. And things happen for a reason. So I wouldn't have to wake up in ten years and realise that I have wasted my life on someone who couldn't care less about me. 
I am broken, yes. He is giving me the world and I can't for the life of me bring myself to care. Probably because I am so used to fighting that now, when someone is fighting for me, I can't feel it as real. I need a challenge. I need it to be a world set on fire, drowning in my sleep, looking for you whenever I'm awake, going crazy, texting you all the time, ignoring you after. I need fire, like the one I have within for my own life and my writing. I would very much like it if you could be that, but that would make me selfish and I don't want to be selfish with you. Not any more than I already have been. That gives answers to the questions I'm not asking myself. And you will probably be the good thing I go back to when I get hurt again. That's when I'll realise what you mean to me now. But I guess I still have things to figure out, so maybe I won't think that way in a day or two. 
It's funny how my insanity when it comes to writing and stories is what kind of keeps my sanity from slipping completely away. This is what I want to be doing, you know - write stories that keep people awake and make them laugh, cry, excite them, drive them crazy, inspire them. I was born to do this. Everything else can go to hell, but my words never will. For as long as I keep writing, I will be okay, no matter what happens to me. And when my writing fails me, I have many books to inspire me, the way Mara Dyer has, just like it did today. 
I am happy in my own weird way. I may fail my classes and my room might be a mess, but it's okay. I can't find it in e to fall in love with my awesome boyfriend, but it's still okay in a way. Maybe I need to belong to myself before I belong to anyone else. Which is part of what I plan on telling him when I see him, probably tomorrow. I am still giving myself and us a chance and I am still a mess, so my mind changes every two days. Plus, I'm happy. Can we keep it that way for a few days at least?

03 ноември, 2014

worth saving

I keep saying that you're the one changing the story. Well, this time I won't wait for a movie to make me cry in order to admit it all.
Why I tried so hard? Why I fought and hoped against hope? Why I let you drag me trough all the possible circles of hell and even create some new ones for me?
Because I believed it was my fairytale. Because I am a dreamer and I am the kind of person who'd be here for all your crappy moods and periods and who'd forgive you all your craziness. Because I don't give up on people all that easily and I give them all the chances I have in the world, even if it breaks me.
And back then, it was a tragedy and a lesson and I love every part of that other story. I love the ghosts of it all around, I love the other blog, I love the posts, I love the music, the thoughts.
This?! I hate all of it and all of me for trying so hard. Yes, I would have felt regret and thought that we could have made it, I would have stayed up all night remembering things. But that way, by letting you break me so bad, I can start fresh and repair the damage and not look back for you. What I look for is me.
But in all honesty, there was a point where I wanted all this to be the story that I tell my little girl while you are holding her. I wanted it to be one of those stories people smile about through tears, because it's epic. I wanted that piece of paper to be my future. But that didn't go away on its own the way it did before. You made it go away. You took away my fairytale and you burned it down to the ground. So now I can hear the clock ticking again, but it's not counting the seconds to an end, it is just passing by and letting me see things through a different perspective. The clicking sound may have happened or not but it doesn't matter. Because at this point I can no longer recognise the person I once imagined a life with and so it's safe to say that I made it up at some point. I was so determined to give everything and do my best that I didn't even realise how I was the only one doing so.
Now I say it was a lesson and I hate myself for ever letting you be such an important part of my life. And I myself wonder why I ever did that. So this time I'm not really changing the story. The story changed for me and it turned into a nightmare. And Callie is right: "But no matter how hard we try we have to realise that some things just can't be fixed."
I am done fixing. I walked away, I am moving on. I am not even trying to fix myself. I am letting myself be happy and I am taking everything slowly, enjoying my freedom. The freedom to be myself and to not fight for everything all the time. And it feels just right sometimes. Others I get bored and I need the drama that I am still so used to. But this new me loves all the scars and insanity. I've learned a lot and I keep reminding myself of the lessons, because I know how easy it is to believe the lie, the illusion and to forget about yourself in the process.
And I have no idea how I ever thought that things can be okay between us ever again. I am way better without you in my life. I sleep better, I don't drown in my sleep, I don't feel the time passing as knives stuck in my chest, I don't need to be reminded to breathe and for the first time in a long time I know that I can be happy on my own. 
What no one understands is that it is my story. Even if I chose someone to share it with, it is still my story and my choices and desires. I fought and I lost, but it is my world all the same. I don't feel like my life ends when someone leaves. I feel like my world might not be better for it, but I will be eventually, when I see things clearly and learn all my lessons. I'd very much like to say that I'm sorry, but the one I should be saying it to is me, for pushing so hard, for hoping, for breaking and losing the little sanity I had left. But the more things break me, the better my writing will be, so still it is all about me and I am grateful for my stupidity if it means that my story will be so much more real. 
I know, my mind is sick and twisted. And there is no beauty in goodbye. There are only all your hopes and dreams burning. The goodbye itself is never beautiful. It goes with lots of tears and screaming, begging. What is beautiful is to see all your hopes and dreams burn down to ash and to find it in you to hope once again when all you believed you've had is gone. The beauty is in surviving. And I, for one, will do my best to make it.