96 months

I've forgotten about you, I no longer see you like I used to. I no longer know you by heart only what can be reminded through pictures and certain perfumes. No details, just a whole, a person, a scent, barely a feeling. I only feel hurt, the one I was left with for years. I no longer feel the love, just traces of anger and cold. The feeling of being left alone, but I cannot blame you for it anymore. I cannot. 

I've forgotten all about you, I remember you no more, I remember me no more. I don't feel you, I don't feel us, I feel only me. The man, not the boy. 

There are so many things I wish I had told you. Sorry most of all. Mostly for the years after you were gone. Sorry for dirten the memory of you, for being the one person who lines up after you in the conversation, mention or thought of you and your life, which for the record rarely happens. I stole your life, that is what people remember about you; me and what love can do to a boy. I made them forget about you, and for that I am sorry. 

I feel confused and guilty, I should love you still but I don't. I've gone numb, not sure if I feel too much or just nothing. It doesn't matter, because I do not miss you though I can no longer tell. I think I do, but I don't.

Give me your strength

Tonight my mind refused to move forward. My thoughts stuck, stare glued, voice not present, sense of smell dead. The image was you. I went through old stuff I've gone through so many times before. Glasses, old clothes, a couple of watches, your diary which I knew was there. No shock. Put aside. Gently. Old schoolbooks, literature, papers... and a picture. It was you. Definitely. You, chair, balcony, beach, seal, waves, surfers, birds, horrizon, sunset. Couldn't tell where it had been taken, who you were with, time of year, or how old but you winded up between a magnet and my fridge. Still smiling. I took 4 and a half step back. Still smiling. Just as you are remembered, exactly as you were. I sat down and closed my eyes. I tried to get to know the feeling. Feeling of losing you, losing us. Behind closed eyes the picture was still there and three tears fell. The promise of getting you safe through life were nothing but a wish. Tears were falling still. Opened, closed, opened. 6 hours, 48 minutes, back to floor, three tears dried..you still smiling. I hear you.

What's on my mind.

Time. Comes, is, goes, goes by. Life. Is. An ultimatum, opposite until death. Dark. Absent of light. Light. A start. Alone it has no end. Eternity. Forever. You? Me. Strength to last. Stronger. Rawer. Faster to slower. Standing still. Timeless. Not existing. Barely. Evolving, develop. In time. Time

Tired

So here it is, I never wanted it get to this, but it did. Exhausted. I am done with this now, I am done. I am whiping it all off, my contions, my sleeves, my hands. I know my problems hits deeper than that but I am done living like this, done with this. Want it over, want a fresh start. Cannot wait to leave this place.

At 2 am

That was when you were supposed to sleep the sweetest
It was when our warmth would be the nighest
When your body would be the easiest
That was when your thoughts would be the simplest
It was when your worries were lightest
When your love was the richest
That was when your face would be the calmest
Still when your mimic would be the sharpest
When your hand felt the meekest
This is today when your perfume smells the strongest
It is when your touch feels the fairest
When your breath sounds the closest
This is when I can picture you the clearest
It is when your wings becomes the whitest
2 am is when my heart feels the weakest

Broken

Never meets your stare, never searches that glaire. Never embraces your soul, as his hug never catches you whole. As if you did never mean much and he never fully enjoys your touch. As if he's always on a role or his stay was never truly meant to hold?

Never kisses you because you feel like, though always answeres to what you want, might. Never draw his fingers through your hair, or does anything you hoped he'd dare. Needs you patient like ever before, if you truly want him for ever more?

Always calls you at the end of night, as to drift his guilt for wanting someone else tight. But at least he would never let you down and always fears you wont stick around. Never shares you his early past, and if, he'd rather mumble it than scoop through fast?

Never shares his tiny flat or shows you pictures or sorts out his map. Prefers the city or open shore, never crowded places with friends or more? Then ask yourself this for your own sake; do you see the true him or the one that's fake?

Does he smile much and keep you safe, or only tries to and keeps you on the edge? Does he show his love for all you're worth or keeps his heart locked with all his hurt? Will he ever talk to you 'bout what he feels, will he ever listen and come back to what is real?

Dear, if you can't answer it's rather clear; he's one man broken and soaked in fear.

The Fist

I am pretty sure there are no readers of this blog. Which is why I feel free to write out my heart in here. I can quickly lay stuff behind me. Some stuff, not all. I had a buddy once whom this blog is replacing. He would know what to say in these cases I feel like writing. This man was there for me every step of the way. I just wish I could at least have been there at his last.

I cannot say I like it here, where I am at, where I stand in this life. Still so young, still so many years ahead of me. I cling to the little hope I possess; that I will, one day, look back at these words wishing I would not pause my life like this. Stop living. Push the autopilot button. I hope one day I will be able to look back at this, thinking I should not have wasted all this time on her. On this. These thoughts and this feeling. This grief. This fist I refuse to open without her palm in it. Her tiny fingers through mine.

I feel locked up behind my own bars of denial. I like to convince myself that I am no longer in denial. But I still get the air knocked out of me every time I truly realize to my own little self she isn't coming back this time. As a huge rock that hits the bottom of my heart. The long and the sadness doesn't last as long as before. But that doesn't mean it hurts less. I'm angry at myself that I just cannot let her go. Not all of her. As if the heart is calling out to the lost piece in vain.

I have spit so much energy on this by now, so frankly I am exhausted. My heart does not agree with my head. Though I have forced my head to be thinking forward it is as if my heart is desperately looking back over my shoulder. Waiting to see my rainbow follow. There is no rainbow anymore. Only clouds lined in silver. As if to expect the rainbow to take form any second. I know there wont be. At least the part of me which is typing.

I am ready to open my palm. To feel the world in my hand. But I suppose the world wont feel right until the day my heart says it is.