Finding fine lines in the garage.
Image by BaileyRaeWeaver
I think I’m going to take long walks and talk to myself a lot more now often. I was given a broken heart recently. I feel like healing isn’t going to fix the love I was surrounded by. I am looking at myself from a high up perspective. The right feelings should be found up there. I let myself step outside of my perimeters. I let myself go, knowing the consequences. I knew the whole time. Like I was an elderly sister for myself I watched me go, but I’d be back and with a half way filled up cup, and bloody, bloody. I fell in and fell afraid of the way I felt as each day turned into each moment. I never got to say it, and I kept hearing myself say "it’s going to make you feel like a million dollars worth spending". I’m not going to go through this being angry or blaming the one who left. He did it for himself, I hope what was wrong in his head is now fixed. The hard thing to admit to myself is what I’m going to miss the most. I’m going to miss those people I fell in love with, every single one. They are the people who I felt comfortable around enough to shout out words that meant nothing, laughing won’t be there. I just felt like that’s where I belonged, for the first time in my short life. I already want those times back. I’m finding my way back home to the heart I used to have, it wasn’t graceful, and it wasn’t broken. I know I’ll bother it enough until I stomp out the cracks . . . there’s not enough footprints on it just yet. I don’t want pity from people, just treat me like you used to. Treat me fair give me what I deserve. I’m trying my best to give it all to me. I don’t know if you’ll ever go looking, but I’ve been putting notes for you in the crack of an empty room. You’ll never know the way. "It all boils down to one quotable phrase, if you love something, give it away".