Weakweakweak

Constant undertow

I constantly overestimate my self control when it comes to certain things. I've seen you in the light and I have felt you in the dark and I know that you are not good for me, that we are not good for us. We are the petals on the most precious of flowers, glorious until they wilt within a matter of time. But it is so easy to make mistakes when I can rest my head on your chest and listen to your heart beat in perfect time, easy when your warm hands find their way into my pockets and easy when all the things I subconsciously want to hear roll their way off of your tongue. 
It is no challenge to list all of the reasons I shouldn't be doing this, but there is always something that overrides my reasoning because there are not many people like you in this world of mine. I am buried deep under all of these words that I have tried to keep, and now you've made this situation a little less translucent. I have found myself in constant undertow.

Let down your walls.

I want to show you my heart,

I like breakfast in bed at 9pm, I like sitting in the lonely grass when night creeps over, I like the warmth of my own tears contrasted with the cool fall of the rain, and warm hands, and making plans to run away, leaving all this behind as though it never really existed. I like dreaming of all the things I could be even if I never really wanted to, I like pictures that make me think and words that make me feel. I like my multitudes of photographs, I like the relationships that have changed everything, the fog of my breath on winter's unforgiving mornings and deep oak eyes. I like the first crack of sunlight as it creeps over the mist of midnight, I like driving through suburbs I don't know imagining different lives that I may have had, and driving in between streetlights watching the shadows fall on your face. I like recognizing people by the sounds of their footsteps, I like that I am more than all of my broken parts, I like than Ben Harper continued my forever and Bon Iver found a secret understanding of love in a blood bank. I like all of the memories floating through my consciousness and I like that sometimes, even on the ugliest of days, this world still has so many beautiful and important things that are like magic, kept beneath the shadows for when we need them the most.   

Home.

Landslide

"I've been afraid of changing cause I've built my life around you"
- Landslide, Fleetwood Mac

Jumping in my time machine

I have never regretted falling for anyone as much as I regret falling for you. If there is one thing I could take back in this world, it would be all the decisions I made regarding and involving you.

We cannot direct the winds, but we can adjust our sails.

Remember; remember

It’s weird to think that we weren’t strangers once, to think we swapped secrets in the backseat of a car under the covers of darkness when the rain would fall so softly on the window and make obscure prints on your skin. Sometimes it is easy to love a boy when you are only eighteen and he’s telling you things that make you think he needs you. It’s easy when you are eighteen and you need something sweet-talking and tender to need you. But I was never really eighteen. It hurts to know how casually I chose my words when I had no idea it would be the last time that I really spoke to you, the things I should have said haunt me constantly. And sometimes, just for the briefest of moments, I can remember what it was like when I knew someone in a way that I will never know them again.

You showed me how real life can be sometimes, how scary and how unpredictable, that sometimes this life can be such a happy accident, more than just a series of decisions and regrets. They are lessons that I couldn’t have learnt better elsewhere and I’ll forever owe you for that. Even when you disappear, please know that you are so very important to me, and will continue to be from the sidelines, concealed by what once was.

Crooked.

Peculiar isn't it, the way someone can turn your world upside down with two words...

Inevitable

Realise

The lights fall heavy on your soft face

I'm scared to answer your questions because I know that so much will hinder on the loaded words that fall from my mouth like the way stars sometimes look so deceivingly low that they lead you to believe they may fall straight from the sky into the creased palms of your hands on a warm summer night. I would still give up  anything to be your everything, and like my grandfather always said, some things never change. Whichever way I go, I come back to the place you are, and maybe this is the type of connection that people try to captivate with words and maybe it is something that I don't understand entirely, but very much like you, it is something I am so very afraid to lose. 

Exactly Anne.

Deprived.

I hope to find the words to tell you how magical my life was whilst you were in it, but for now I will sleep.

Let it out.

"you're my freedom, you're my jail"

I am going to count to three and pretend that I can forget all this, even for a second. Pretend that I can forget that everything around me is falling to pieces and that I do not care enough to salvage them; forget that the last fragment of my trust has disappeared; forget that I can no longer crawl in your bed on rainy nights and feel you steadying my shaking shoulders because I was crying and I was so scared all of the god damned time. I am going to pretend that this emptiness isn't so real, that it is just a phase like that time we believed pinky promises held the most solid form of commitment and that steamed bok choi was a secret stairway to heaven. I am not brave and I am not nearly half as courageous as I need to be and I am always making decisions I wind up regretting, but you were not one of them. In fact, right now I am regretting most of the decisions that led these shaking shoulders to be here without you around to steady them and all I can think of is how alone we are in this world sometimes and how you cried and told me you were sick and I was too scared to be the person you needed me to be and how, no matter what I do, I could never really let you go because we were always so much more than what appeared on the surface.
In three seconds, I am going to take a deep breath and pretend that everything is not quite so broken, at least for tonight.

Cracks

"There was always confession, which said you could do whatever you wanted but always come away clean after a few Hail Marys and Our Fathers. I had believed this for quite sometime but I came to know, firsthand, that there were certain marks on your soul that no one could ever erase"

-Jodi Picoult; who has always managed to put the exact thoughts that run through my head into delicately placed words during the most extraordinary moments of time.

For the hidden magic in us all..

Too far gone.

Some people could never really interpret who I was or what I was thinking. But I was never less transparent than one thin canvas to you and you scratched me red raw right down to my very core. And I want to fix this; I want to fix us and I want to fix me, but those things are not one in the same and we are broken beyond words that will ever describe our state. I was slowly finding my own feet again, but then I learnt that I won’t be seeing you around anymore and it’s tearing me up into little shreds and I am so scattered.

You don’t love me, and that’s okay, I never asked you to and I don’t matter to you, and maybe nobody does, but I want to... I want to.

Be free.

"Even though you may want to move forward in your life, you may have one foot on the brakes. In order to be free, we must learn how to let go. Release the hurt. Release the fear. Refuse to entertain your old pain. The energy it takes to hang onto the past is holding you back from a new life."

Beauty

Leave of absence

Firstly, I would like to apologise for the lack of blogging over the last three weeks. I have been working crazy hours and visiting places all over Australia's eastern coast and meeting up with people who I'd previously let slide out of my life.
I have a few pieces of writing I have done whilst waiting in various places, scribbled onto the back of napkins or on the edges of invoices that I will eventually put on here.
Will most probably another quiet blogging weekend as it is my birthday on Sunday, but I will be back in action on Monday, pinky promise!