For most, twenty-one is when your life is just beginning -but that is when a significant part of mine had ended....
together we ignited a spark so special. But for months one of us seemed to burn brighter than the other, and now - even at eighteen - it's as if we're too far burned for either of us to even flicker....
or too far burned to care at all. In the time that has past, I have become a drifter.
I've drifted from one relationship to the next with little to no attachment. My time spent with them is short and meaningless. It terrifies me to think that I may never find that spark with another.
It's so wretchedly dry living in this ash. All appeal followed you out.
Apathy spreads like cancer. To each other we meant too much - for that I am haunted and taunted. It hasn't mattered how many times I try and strike it with another, like lightning the extremity of its grace dies too quickly. Perhaps because that form of grace doesn't ever strike twice.
I was once told that, everything beautiful eventually dies. As tragic as that sounds I am beginning to believe that it may be true...
To an extent, we are both to blame because to each other we meant too much. But now, my love, I think it is time. This is my final curtain call –to a love story that was eight years in the making. We couldn't even give it a happy ending. To each other we meant too much.
You're burning memory, the torrid itch to rewrite the conclusion, and being Piqued for continuing to care.
These are the embers that garnish my every day. The embers I want stomped out.
There is nothing left here- nothing but memories.
Memories that were collected over time- much like the thick layer of dust that is now piled on to your camera. Photographs have disappeared- like the love you once had for me. It used to leave me feeling empty- like your cold, vacant studio. But now I'll disappear -like a shadow of the night. The roses have been left for dead- like you now are to me.
You're no where around to confide in with.
The hardest are harder without you, but your absence is by far the worst. You pushed me away and I ultimately knocked you off my grid. It's been too long since I last heard your voice or been warmed by your company, by your charm. Perhaps not long enough though.
I love you, but I don't like you. I miss you, but I wouldn't have you back and I care, begrudgingly.