inside today (beside me today)
dear neverwhere,
i think it must have been at least a year now since i have finally lost complete track of you. i've finally decided to stop confronting you, because in the end it probably is pointless and will never get any of us anywhere. i don't really know if you think about me as much as i think of you, or if you ever did in the past for that matter, but you're the only person who i would want to confide in, regardless. i think i have come to a point in my life where i am not quite sure as to where to go. it would be so wonderful to be able to see you again, but at the same time i can't even find myself being able to fathom it. i can't imagine how i would act, what i would say, what i should do. things have always been so difficult because i could never get answers from you -- whether it be because you didn't want to give them, or because i was too afraid to take them.
the memories we have shared between us, i'm sure, are vastly different in their significance, but i have to tell you that as i sit here with them day after day and get to know them more, the more i realize how little acquainted to them i am. afterwards i often can't remember if their fragments were parts of a treasure or a ceramic claw-foot victorian bathtub. they rearrange the walls of my house, making rooms out of hallways, secret passageways out of verandas, ballrooms out of closets, and then they disappear and i get lost trying to figure out where my bedroom has gone. i want to put the rest of my life on hold and just sit, watching them play, and the fact that i can't makes me question how i live. i have come to the point where i have decided that maybe waiting isn't the most wise thing to do anymore. it was comforting to once think that i could continue to do so, but as i step out of its shadow i can't help but be afraid -- so afraid. you're growing up so fast, and i wish i could continue to protect you from it forever and just press against the walls until i sink down beneath the floorboards, but i'm getting tired, so tired.
in the end, maybe what i am searching for is real love, and from what i have seen, these ghosts are incapable of it. they lay on my bed and look out my window, wondering why the windows have now begun to blend into the walls and breathe so loudly to the point where it becomes impossible to sleep. sometimes it feels that if anything, maybe love and happiness for it's own sake is God. having spent nearly a decade circulating between many private religious schools, i can comfortably say i have never appreciated the concept of God as a single deity, but moreover as an overall feeling. i don't know if i ever will be able to conceive this feeling to its fullest extent, but when you come to mind i feel that i am close to it.
perhaps things will always be this way -- and in the end, maybe love is meant to be seperated into divisions and avenues and appreciated from afar if it is pure enough. and if that ends up being the case, then i will keep searching and watching until i fully lose myself.
i think it must have been at least a year now since i have finally lost complete track of you. i've finally decided to stop confronting you, because in the end it probably is pointless and will never get any of us anywhere. i don't really know if you think about me as much as i think of you, or if you ever did in the past for that matter, but you're the only person who i would want to confide in, regardless. i think i have come to a point in my life where i am not quite sure as to where to go. it would be so wonderful to be able to see you again, but at the same time i can't even find myself being able to fathom it. i can't imagine how i would act, what i would say, what i should do. things have always been so difficult because i could never get answers from you -- whether it be because you didn't want to give them, or because i was too afraid to take them.
the memories we have shared between us, i'm sure, are vastly different in their significance, but i have to tell you that as i sit here with them day after day and get to know them more, the more i realize how little acquainted to them i am. afterwards i often can't remember if their fragments were parts of a treasure or a ceramic claw-foot victorian bathtub. they rearrange the walls of my house, making rooms out of hallways, secret passageways out of verandas, ballrooms out of closets, and then they disappear and i get lost trying to figure out where my bedroom has gone. i want to put the rest of my life on hold and just sit, watching them play, and the fact that i can't makes me question how i live. i have come to the point where i have decided that maybe waiting isn't the most wise thing to do anymore. it was comforting to once think that i could continue to do so, but as i step out of its shadow i can't help but be afraid -- so afraid. you're growing up so fast, and i wish i could continue to protect you from it forever and just press against the walls until i sink down beneath the floorboards, but i'm getting tired, so tired.
in the end, maybe what i am searching for is real love, and from what i have seen, these ghosts are incapable of it. they lay on my bed and look out my window, wondering why the windows have now begun to blend into the walls and breathe so loudly to the point where it becomes impossible to sleep. sometimes it feels that if anything, maybe love and happiness for it's own sake is God. having spent nearly a decade circulating between many private religious schools, i can comfortably say i have never appreciated the concept of God as a single deity, but moreover as an overall feeling. i don't know if i ever will be able to conceive this feeling to its fullest extent, but when you come to mind i feel that i am close to it.
perhaps things will always be this way -- and in the end, maybe love is meant to be seperated into divisions and avenues and appreciated from afar if it is pure enough. and if that ends up being the case, then i will keep searching and watching until i fully lose myself.