The One Who Hits the Hardest
You understand. Yes I do, only not for the reasons you believe. You think I understand because I was there to witness it. I was. I waited in anticipation along with everyone else. Waiting for that moment when everything was just right. Waiting for a time when there was no longer any reason to be apart. Waiting, like everyone else, for something we knew would never come but believed that you knew something more. There was a secret between the two of you that we would never get. We trusted in that, believed despite everything telling us otherwise, that eventually it would be. I was there, but that's not why I understand. I understand it because I lived it.
I know what it is to have the stuff of fairytales. To have inspiration in your life and to feel the core of you feel more alive than it ever has because of it. To wake up smiling with the knowledge of what it is you have in your life and the endless possibilities the day brings. I have lived that life. I have lived it and I have dealt with the consequences of such a fall. To feel lost when you no longer have the words, to ache because the only ones you have are ones of pain and regret. Striking the bargain, saying you'll endure whatever comes if only you could feel it again even if you know it will end. Because it always ends, and each time that follows the fall is so much harder than before.
Yes I know it, I know it better than you. This story is mine, more than yours, and now I have to decide what happens next. Words I've already chosen for the moment. I could use them, or I could do what I've never done before and remain silent. The insanity of repeating the same behaviour and expecting a different result no longer my captor. Fully aware now. But do I try again? One (last) time, give another chance in the vain attempt that perhaps this time things are different even though every part of me is telling me that they're not. Or do I accept this once and for all? Admit to myself it's finally done and allow the moment to pass. Always ready to disappoint, remove the opportunity and save myself from what is certain to follow.
Perhaps I should leave it to fate, a toss of a coin. I could never trust enough though that the right decision would be made, yet my own decision making skills have always failed me so miserably. Actions and words so telling. I fight so hard to understand you, to make you see me. Someone worth fighting for, but not when we're fighting ourselves. My smile, it's never you anymore.
Months ago I asked of you a question. Your answer received I knew I would have to ask questions of myself in return. Whether I can do this again is no longer relevant, I'm doing it. Am I ready to finally let it go? Still undecided. So many more questions with each passing moment.
Clock's ticking.
I know what it is to have the stuff of fairytales. To have inspiration in your life and to feel the core of you feel more alive than it ever has because of it. To wake up smiling with the knowledge of what it is you have in your life and the endless possibilities the day brings. I have lived that life. I have lived it and I have dealt with the consequences of such a fall. To feel lost when you no longer have the words, to ache because the only ones you have are ones of pain and regret. Striking the bargain, saying you'll endure whatever comes if only you could feel it again even if you know it will end. Because it always ends, and each time that follows the fall is so much harder than before.
Yes I know it, I know it better than you. This story is mine, more than yours, and now I have to decide what happens next. Words I've already chosen for the moment. I could use them, or I could do what I've never done before and remain silent. The insanity of repeating the same behaviour and expecting a different result no longer my captor. Fully aware now. But do I try again? One (last) time, give another chance in the vain attempt that perhaps this time things are different even though every part of me is telling me that they're not. Or do I accept this once and for all? Admit to myself it's finally done and allow the moment to pass. Always ready to disappoint, remove the opportunity and save myself from what is certain to follow.
Perhaps I should leave it to fate, a toss of a coin. I could never trust enough though that the right decision would be made, yet my own decision making skills have always failed me so miserably. Actions and words so telling. I fight so hard to understand you, to make you see me. Someone worth fighting for, but not when we're fighting ourselves. My smile, it's never you anymore.
Months ago I asked of you a question. Your answer received I knew I would have to ask questions of myself in return. Whether I can do this again is no longer relevant, I'm doing it. Am I ready to finally let it go? Still undecided. So many more questions with each passing moment.
Clock's ticking.