annotate old/stories/thoughts.txt @ 2:fc00894c1d4a moonlitnights

[svn r3] moved all the bad stuff to 'old'
author rlm
date Fri, 19 Feb 2010 20:53:12 -0500
parents
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rlm@2 1 Disclaimer: Me again. I suddenly got in a writing mood, so here it
rlm@2 2 is! Please note that I do not own any copyrighted items. I hope you
rlm@2 3 all enjoy it. ~.^ ~~Forever3330~~ ^.~
rlm@2 4
rlm@2 5 Thoughts
rlm@2 6 By Forever3330
rlm@2 7 kawaiimotoko@hotmail.com
rlm@2 8
rlm@2 9 Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Sitting on the sidelines,
rlm@2 10 holding everything swirling around in me back, building wall upon
rlm@2 11 wall around my true heart, trying to lock it away, all so that I can
rlm@2 12 give her, to the best of my ability, what she deserves. Someone who
rlm@2 13 loves her, who can protect her and her precious heart, who can help
rlm@2 14 her to shine more brightly then she already does, who can give her a
rlm@2 15 life. A marriage, a family, a reason to live.
rlm@2 16 My treacherous heart is torn in two; I love her! I can protect her!
rlm@2 17 I can help her shine more brightly! But when it comes to the last, I
rlm@2 18 stop. Everything simply grows cold and I force a smile, just from
rlm@2 19 habit, as I feel the familiar despair and reason wash over me. I
rlm@2 20 can’t give her a life. Not a marriage, not a family. And how, how
rlm@2 21 could I possibly give her a reason to live, when I couldn’t do those
rlm@2 22 simple things?
rlm@2 23 And so I cry tears that aren’t tears. They don’t exist, they don’t
rlm@2 24 cause me to cry out in grief; because they don’t exist in the world
rlm@2 25 where you can see and feel them. They only exist within me, as I cry
rlm@2 26 my way through eternity. But why do I do such a thing?
rlm@2 27 A simple answer, I suppose. I do it for her. For her happiness. For
rlm@2 28 her heart. It’s the only path I can see. It’s the only path there is.
rlm@2 29 I would do anything for her; but that leaves me trapped, in a prison
rlm@2 30 I helped to make.
rlm@2 31 I can’t leave. That would only hurt her. I can’t. I can’t stay;
rlm@2 32 that only causes me to die further inside of myself, pulling back,
rlm@2 33 only barely remembering to wear my smiling mask. But I have to stay.
rlm@2 34 I can’t hurt her. If I would truly do anything for her, then surely I
rlm@2 35 can do so simple a thing as be there through all the pain. No matter
rlm@2 36 what. Even if I eventually kill my own heart in the effort of trying
rlm@2 37 to stay, to not hurt the heart I treasure above all others.
rlm@2 38 But I’m starting to wonder if that isn’t true. I’m beginning to be
rlm@2 39 unable to feel anything but the emotions I have for her, and the
rlm@2 40 emotions that I stand for her. Despair, loneliness, hope, love, and
rlm@2 41 endless longing, those too many to name, and worst of all reason. Is
rlm@2 42 reason even an emotion? Whatever it is, it is by far the worst thing
rlm@2 43 to have.
rlm@2 44 Or the best.
rlm@2 45 Without reason, wouldn’t I have ruined the life I’m so carefully
rlm@2 46 trying to build for her? Wouldn’t I have lost any chance of her
rlm@2 47 happiness? Wouldn’t she hate me?
rlm@2 48 Most people would hate me, I’m sure. For something I can’t help,
rlm@2 49 something I never asked for, never meant to fall into…and I could do
rlm@2 50 nothing about it. As long as I wear my masks at least I can be near
rlm@2 51 her.
rlm@2 52 I wish it would stop. The confusion, all of it. Every emotion that
rlm@2 53 swirls through me, the life I don’t want to live that I do want to
rlm@2 54 live. It would be easy to stop it all. But I can’t. My prison seems
rlm@2 55 to grow into something I can’t escape more and more as my desire to
rlm@2 56 escape it grows. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I wish…
rlm@2 57 The last word I hear echoing through my mind, as everything quiets,
rlm@2 58 letting me rest, is ‘why’. Why? Why? Why…
rlm@2 59 Why does anything happen? I don’t really know. I don’t know
rlm@2 60 anything at all, in a way. Does anyone know everything? If someone
rlm@2 61 does, could they come and explain to me once more why? Can they
rlm@2 62 explain that stupid, silly word that always ends my battles within
rlm@2 63 this prison?
rlm@2 64 Can they explain why?
rlm@2 65 I don’t want this. I don’t want to be forever wandering though this
rlm@2 66 dark place. I don’t want any of it. I don’t…
rlm@2 67 But I do.
rlm@2 68 I want the small, treasured moments where I have the light she
rlm@2 69 gives me. The light that eases the pain away, that forces the
rlm@2 70 darkness and the prison back. Sometimes the light makes me want to
rlm@2 71 break my masks. Sometimes it helps me to fix them, and reminds me why
rlm@2 72 I do any of this at all. But mostly the light leaves me with the
rlm@2 73 smallest, weakest hope. The most hope I can manage. The hope that
rlm@2 74 someday…someday…
rlm@2 75 I don’t really know.
rlm@2 76 The hope that she’ll save me, I guess. That’s silly, I know…you
rlm@2 77 have to save yourself. No one saves you. No one can, when you’re so
rlm@2 78 close to invisible as I am. But how am I to save myself when it takes
rlm@2 79 all my strength to keep alive? It takes all of me to show that smile
rlm@2 80 I have to give, to make them all think I’m okay. I’m always okay. I
rlm@2 81 have to be. If I show that I’m not, I could break it all…she can’t
rlm@2 82 worry about me. I can’t have that.
rlm@2 83 I can’t really think anymore. I’m broken, I think. Broken. I don’t
rlm@2 84 think I can be fixed by anything but the one thing I can’t have.
rlm@2 85 Absurd, isn’t it? That I can’t find the strength to save myself, but
rlm@2 86 I can find it in me to save others from all that I feel? That I can
rlm@2 87 only mask everything that goes through my mind? That I can’t ever
rlm@2 88 really show all of myself, let the masks drop, let anyone, least of
rlm@2 89 all her, stare straight into my eyes and see in one glimpse
rlm@2 90 everything that I have to hide?
rlm@2 91 All I can think right now it nothing, really. It’s simply an empty
rlm@2 92 void. I’m running out of emotions and thoughts. All but those that I
rlm@2 93 seem to be cursed with for the rest of my life. I must have an
rlm@2 94 endless supply of those; that or she hands them all to me, without
rlm@2 95 noticing. You’d think she’d notice. How can she simply pull something
rlm@2 96 out without realizing it?
rlm@2 97 But that’s one of the things I like about her. She’s too innocent
rlm@2 98 to understand the workings of the heart, or of emotions themselves.
rlm@2 99 She just needs a few pushes in the right direction sometimes.
rlm@2 100 But how can I know the right direction?
rlm@2 101 I think she’s fallen for him, though. It’s not that hard to see. If
rlm@2 102 only they would move far, far away, so that it could all end. So that
rlm@2 103 I could make my disappearing act with her none the wiser. But no; she
rlm@2 104 can’t leave her home. Her friends, her family. Me. And I haven’t the
rlm@2 105 slightest idea why.
rlm@2 106 No matter what I say I still can’t convince her that it’s for the
rlm@2 107 best.
rlm@2 108 And so I sit here on a swing in the park, arguing with myself,
rlm@2 109 unconsciously smiling out of habit. Smiling when I feel like crying.
rlm@2 110 For once it would be nice to cry. But I wonder if I can cry. I used
rlm@2 111 to cry myself to sleep, a long time ago. I don’t think I have any of
rlm@2 112 the tears that people would refer to as real left. I think I’m too
rlm@2 113 far gone for that. To let it all go and simply cry. To sob. To wail.
rlm@2 114 To bemoan your fate.
rlm@2 115 Perhaps I’m slightly insane to think that wonderful, but surely it
rlm@2 116 is better then this battle I hold within myself. I want them out. All
rlm@2 117 the painful emotions. But not the love or the hope. The love is
rlm@2 118 something that wouldn’t go away if I wanted it to. And the hope at
rlm@2 119 least gives me something to grasp. A rope thrown down into the hole
rlm@2 120 I’ve dug myself, beckoning for me to try to climb it, a little. A
rlm@2 121 rope that taunts with the thought that someone might descend to help
rlm@2 122 me up, or pull the rope back up with me attached.
rlm@2 123 I know that the thought I keep trying to obliterate has to do with
rlm@2 124 that hope. The hope that it will be her who saves me; the hope that I
rlm@2 125 will be saved at all. Why would she save me?
rlm@2 126 She doesn’t even know that I need to be saved.