As we sift through the hourglass
Living with you is so hard.
I've been rewriting the past, remembering our relationship in a way that makes this easiest. You called me out on it, but I didn't realize how far I was going with it. The truth is, when I remember the times we were happy, when I think about the sweet things you did for me, when I read the old e-mails I sent you in happy times, when I look at old pictures, the guilt of everything crushes me.
I've been taking complete responsibility for our problems. I know how much I've hurt you, and although it hurts me too, I know how much faster I will recover. I am a bitch to you. I'm trying to pretend I'm living my own life, I'm trying to pretend I didn't just end a three and a half year relationship with someone I care about, and you aren't giving me enough space to successfully do that. Sometimes, I can let go and be your friend and enjoy sitting with you, talking with you, being with you. But the next morning, I remember how my life is still in limbo, and I turn cold again. It's how I'm coping with this. Most of the time, I do believe I don't really give a shit anymore, but then something drags me back and I have moments where I choke back tears.
I know that I broke up with you. I know that it's because of how I felt. I know that I've hurt you and this hit you like a brick from nowhere. I can't let the guilt of this tear me up, though. I think back to that first semester, when we were so obsessed with each other and lonely from the world that we refused to get out of bed. I think back to those moments when I wished I could fall in love with you, felt like maybe I was, and found myself frustrated with my own stubbornness. I think back to when you drove up to see me one night during the middle of the week when you lived at home, because I needed you. I think back to how you couldn't watch me get excited about holding kittens without buying one for me. I think back on how I couldn't stand waiting to talk to you or see you when I lived in Casa Loma. When I took care of your drunk, puking ass after telling me you wanted to kiss my lips as you hugged my knees. When we first moved in together, and I was so happy to play house with you.
So many memories. So many times I felt like I couldn't live without you. You were an emotional crutch to me, yes, but you were so much more. I remember how proud of you I was whenever you thought you figured out what direction you wanted to go in, or when you got involved in school. I remember wanting to shield you from the world when it was mean to you, and wanting to help you whenever I saw you in desperation. Staying up late at night to read your flashcards to you because you forgot them at my place... haha.
Maybe I'm being more harsh on this relationship in retrospect than I should be. There were moments I believed I was in love with you. There were moments that I probably approached feeling that way. But things declined as time passed, and I think I really started to realize this after we moved in together. Things were great at first, but we stopped communicating and spending time together and started fighting more. The latent worries and fears I had suppressed came back to the surface, and I distanced myself more and more. Our relationship became more surface-level, and that made me resent it more.
I don't think this happened because of certain events or circumstances. I don't take back the things I said before about always having some part of me know that this relationship wasn't everything I needed. But someday, when this is finally a part of the past, I will rewrite it all again as a sweet memory. When I do, I will finally allow myself to feel all of the guilt I'm avoiding now, because I will be able to stop hating myself for it when I'm not faced with it on a daily basis.
There is something I wrote to you in an e-mail not long ago. It's the closest I ever came to explaining how I felt:
"I just wanted to tell you I really love you and this relationship. I don't always seem like it, and who knows how much longer we will make this thing work, but I've learned so much from you. You really have helped me learn to be a better person and love myself, even when it feels like no one else does. I don't think I could have made it through college without you, and I definitely wouldn't be as secure and confident."
I'm sorry that you were my bandaid while I was your knife.
That girl you saw, sitting in her trashy room while on the phone with a reporter, who looked up expecting the need to tell you off for being impatient and found a sweet, understanding grin instead? You were the support and encouragement that led her to motivation and success. I know I can take it from here, but I also know you carried me part of the way down the path, and I'll never forget that.
I like him, yes. I haven't stopped talking to him. I don't want to, because it's been so long since I've felt hope that I'm not completely cynical and broken when it comes to falling in love. I'm angry, though. I'm angry that I met him so soon. Angry that I haven't finished putting myself back together before finding myself interested in anyone at all. Angry that although we're broken up, I am still in a sort of relationship with you, and it's not right for me to fool myself into believing it is okay to act like I've moved on completely. Angry that I live in emotional limbo.
I will leave when the summer ends. I can't take this, either. I can't be a bitch and hate myself. I can't break down and cry. I can't be your friend. I want to be, and maybe someday we can be better at being cordial and friendly, but I need time and space to heal too. And I can't keep bawling at work while I write livejournal posts. It's entirely too emo for my taste.
Whoever the girl from your past is, I hope she grants you repreive. At least.
I really do love you, and always will.
The Hush Sound
Hourglass
As we sift through the hour glass
We realize that an hour's passed
And not a person here is innocent
Were both as guilty as a sin
It must have rained all through the night
The tires just couldn't grip right
So I took another long sip
And wiped away my chapped lips
This is how it ends
We believe every lie and say we'll be friends
How long will it last?
Before we scratch all the scripts and we rework the cast
As the hour met the minute hand
We kept racing through this foreign land
With no direction or a telephone
Together we were all alone
That's when the puzzle was finally pieced
We compromised until our bodies seized
To some we seem like colder creatures well
We were warm until we went to hell
This is how it ends
We believe every lie and say we'll be friends
How long will it last?
Before we scratch all the scripts and we rework the cast
Cast the first stone
Lets pretend that we don't have a
Past, the worst one
Forbid, forget, forget that you exist
Cast the first stone
Lets pretend that we don't have a
Past, the worst one
Forbid, forget, forget that you exist
I've been rewriting the past, remembering our relationship in a way that makes this easiest. You called me out on it, but I didn't realize how far I was going with it. The truth is, when I remember the times we were happy, when I think about the sweet things you did for me, when I read the old e-mails I sent you in happy times, when I look at old pictures, the guilt of everything crushes me.
I've been taking complete responsibility for our problems. I know how much I've hurt you, and although it hurts me too, I know how much faster I will recover. I am a bitch to you. I'm trying to pretend I'm living my own life, I'm trying to pretend I didn't just end a three and a half year relationship with someone I care about, and you aren't giving me enough space to successfully do that. Sometimes, I can let go and be your friend and enjoy sitting with you, talking with you, being with you. But the next morning, I remember how my life is still in limbo, and I turn cold again. It's how I'm coping with this. Most of the time, I do believe I don't really give a shit anymore, but then something drags me back and I have moments where I choke back tears.
I know that I broke up with you. I know that it's because of how I felt. I know that I've hurt you and this hit you like a brick from nowhere. I can't let the guilt of this tear me up, though. I think back to that first semester, when we were so obsessed with each other and lonely from the world that we refused to get out of bed. I think back to those moments when I wished I could fall in love with you, felt like maybe I was, and found myself frustrated with my own stubbornness. I think back to when you drove up to see me one night during the middle of the week when you lived at home, because I needed you. I think back to how you couldn't watch me get excited about holding kittens without buying one for me. I think back on how I couldn't stand waiting to talk to you or see you when I lived in Casa Loma. When I took care of your drunk, puking ass after telling me you wanted to kiss my lips as you hugged my knees. When we first moved in together, and I was so happy to play house with you.
So many memories. So many times I felt like I couldn't live without you. You were an emotional crutch to me, yes, but you were so much more. I remember how proud of you I was whenever you thought you figured out what direction you wanted to go in, or when you got involved in school. I remember wanting to shield you from the world when it was mean to you, and wanting to help you whenever I saw you in desperation. Staying up late at night to read your flashcards to you because you forgot them at my place... haha.
Maybe I'm being more harsh on this relationship in retrospect than I should be. There were moments I believed I was in love with you. There were moments that I probably approached feeling that way. But things declined as time passed, and I think I really started to realize this after we moved in together. Things were great at first, but we stopped communicating and spending time together and started fighting more. The latent worries and fears I had suppressed came back to the surface, and I distanced myself more and more. Our relationship became more surface-level, and that made me resent it more.
I don't think this happened because of certain events or circumstances. I don't take back the things I said before about always having some part of me know that this relationship wasn't everything I needed. But someday, when this is finally a part of the past, I will rewrite it all again as a sweet memory. When I do, I will finally allow myself to feel all of the guilt I'm avoiding now, because I will be able to stop hating myself for it when I'm not faced with it on a daily basis.
There is something I wrote to you in an e-mail not long ago. It's the closest I ever came to explaining how I felt:
"I just wanted to tell you I really love you and this relationship. I don't always seem like it, and who knows how much longer we will make this thing work, but I've learned so much from you. You really have helped me learn to be a better person and love myself, even when it feels like no one else does. I don't think I could have made it through college without you, and I definitely wouldn't be as secure and confident."
I'm sorry that you were my bandaid while I was your knife.
That girl you saw, sitting in her trashy room while on the phone with a reporter, who looked up expecting the need to tell you off for being impatient and found a sweet, understanding grin instead? You were the support and encouragement that led her to motivation and success. I know I can take it from here, but I also know you carried me part of the way down the path, and I'll never forget that.
I like him, yes. I haven't stopped talking to him. I don't want to, because it's been so long since I've felt hope that I'm not completely cynical and broken when it comes to falling in love. I'm angry, though. I'm angry that I met him so soon. Angry that I haven't finished putting myself back together before finding myself interested in anyone at all. Angry that although we're broken up, I am still in a sort of relationship with you, and it's not right for me to fool myself into believing it is okay to act like I've moved on completely. Angry that I live in emotional limbo.
I will leave when the summer ends. I can't take this, either. I can't be a bitch and hate myself. I can't break down and cry. I can't be your friend. I want to be, and maybe someday we can be better at being cordial and friendly, but I need time and space to heal too. And I can't keep bawling at work while I write livejournal posts. It's entirely too emo for my taste.
Whoever the girl from your past is, I hope she grants you repreive. At least.
I really do love you, and always will.
The Hush Sound
Hourglass
As we sift through the hour glass
We realize that an hour's passed
And not a person here is innocent
Were both as guilty as a sin
It must have rained all through the night
The tires just couldn't grip right
So I took another long sip
And wiped away my chapped lips
This is how it ends
We believe every lie and say we'll be friends
How long will it last?
Before we scratch all the scripts and we rework the cast
As the hour met the minute hand
We kept racing through this foreign land
With no direction or a telephone
Together we were all alone
That's when the puzzle was finally pieced
We compromised until our bodies seized
To some we seem like colder creatures well
We were warm until we went to hell
This is how it ends
We believe every lie and say we'll be friends
How long will it last?
Before we scratch all the scripts and we rework the cast
Cast the first stone
Lets pretend that we don't have a
Past, the worst one
Forbid, forget, forget that you exist
Cast the first stone
Lets pretend that we don't have a
Past, the worst one
Forbid, forget, forget that you exist