I Keep Falling
Previous - this entry written on May 19, 2003 at 9:58 am - Next


Wasted lives
and wasted time
the things we shared
my only crime.
Dreams and hope
late moonlit talks
comfort found
in lazy walks
through streets and sand
beyond the place
that seems to trap
the human race.
A promise made
though never heard
and still I swear
I'll keep my word.

*shrugs, voice low* Maybe it's egotism. Maybe it's confusion. Maybe yet again I'm overstimating myself. That... not an answer to anything or anyone, least of all myself. Maybe I'm stumbling. Maybe I'm falling all over again. Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Maybe it means everything I've been trying to say for years.

And just maybe I'm on the edge of the biggest mistake I'll ever make, and dammit, I don't know which side of the coin is the one that will kill me.

I have an appointment on the 20th. Another on the 27th. Oddly enough, the 21st is free. *shrugs again, shaking her head* No matter how many times my fingers get burnt, no matter how many times I'm warned otherwise, no matter how many times I put the matches away, somehow I'm still drawn to the fire.

It's only made worse by my indecision, I know. There's...

It's not going to matter, what I write here. It's true, it's me, it's serious, but I know perfectly well it's only part of the truth. Yeah, I'm kind of going to seed right now. On the 27th I'm going to ask about changing my medication, seeing if I can find something that doesn't encourage my already-annoying ability to gain weight just by thinking about it. I'm going to be walking a good 3-4 blocks every weekday (except Mondays, I get enough hell on them already).

Hope.

Wait.

Get shown all over again that trust is one of the most useless emotions I could possibly have.

It really bothers me that I can't seem to just get over this. I'm 24, fairly rational, definitely strong-willed, stubborn, somewhat intelligent. I'm confidant about things that most women won't even think of. I'm certain of who I am. I'm fairly sure of WHY I am.

*sighs, curling up, shrugging as she looks away*

Maybe I shouldn't have written this entry.

Maybe I'll be around on Wednesday.

Maybe...

...maybe I'm tired of making this choice.

Tell me I should turn away. Tell me I should stay. Tell me there's some reason for me to keep trying.

Tell me you have even the slightest clue as to how I feel, and maybe it'll be ok.

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