Coming clean
A few years ago, I let my heart take a bit of a bruising. I allowed myself to be played and then convinced myself that deep down I had known all along, trying to justify my naivety. Then, last March, when I finally realised I was still stuck on a treadmill at the starting line, I called it a day and attempted to start over. I had the freedom, but lacked the courage, and so it all just got swept under the rug. Out of sight, out of mind.
A new year has begun, and I'm ready now, to leave it all behind. This will be my final post to this journal. I'll soon start another, but there'll be no announcement or grand return. Should you happen to find me, we'll be strangers once again. Understand, I'm not running away, and I'm not hiding. I'm perfectly happy to build new friendships with anyone who wanders my way, but all of the thin, golden cords that run over the oceans between my heart and others have, with time, all burned out.
A new year has begun, and I'm ready now, to leave it all behind. This will be my final post to this journal. I'll soon start another, but there'll be no announcement or grand return. Should you happen to find me, we'll be strangers once again. Understand, I'm not running away, and I'm not hiding. I'm perfectly happy to build new friendships with anyone who wanders my way, but all of the thin, golden cords that run over the oceans between my heart and others have, with time, all burned out.