And my rambling rolls on.
It's so hard to give up on someone that you care about. There is a thin line between what makes me happy and what each night crushes you. I chase and chase and still find myself in the same spot yet feeling, foolishly enough, a little closer, and little more at ease. I try to make myself come off cold and unwelcoming but deep down I want to emulate exactly what I feel inside, which is, light-headedd and maybe just a little more warm than what I used to be. As soon as I tell myself that the pursuit is over, make it concrete in my head, my insides have already twisted and turned in the opposite direction. I have always been a rational person. I use logic, I work things out in my mind before acting, I think before opening my mouth. That once made sense. Why use your heart when doing so makes yourself emotionally and mentally unbalanced? I guess the thrill of wavering with uncertainty has with time given itself more appeal than languidly couting fingers with preciseness. Give me a tingling of the skin over a numbness of inspiration any day. Still as exciting as it may appear, as new and unexplored as it may be, I still take it as a drug that like the rest wear off all too soon, and give an uneasy feeling when you come down. I want my next drug to breathe, blink, move, and stay in my system and mind as long as want it to. For once I want control over something, and maybe I will obtain that if I don't give up when beginning attmepts weigh me down. Sooner or later buoyancy will be given, it just has to.