(no subject)
In a sort of response.
Have you ever missed the past? Yet at the same time known that your past you isn't the you now? And old dreams that have stopped recurring, stopped recurring for a reason?
Lies aside, the wound still aches, though rarely. I'm happy for friendship. I'm happy for growing and developing enough to have the maturity there. I do, however, miss the naive-ity, the fresh emotion, the pain, and everything else that came with it. It inspired something within me. Now, it's different. I do want to go back to being that unjaded person. Bettering myself for something intangible. But Arthur's court falters, then disintegrates, and those ideals are no longer upheld. Nor should they be, really.
I was never happy then. I know the pain. And I'm sorry that you're probably feeling it now. Maybe I'm even a worse person for being attainable. I can see what this has all done to you. I'd do anything to take it all back, give you the person whom I was several years previous.
I don't know what I want, nor whom I am. I don't want to ever relive history. I don't want things to have happened when they didn't in my past. I love you, I love her. The current has metamorphosed into something different.
In history, it fell. Completely. Something external. And it was different. I love her as a friend, and rational has since kicked in. We are different people. I'm glad we never were anything more than friends. And I'm not lying when I say that now.
I love you. I'm sorry for always hurting you. I'm in a dilemma, and both sides hurt equally. No matter what I do, I can't stop thinking, nor would ever be able to stop thinking about the other side. This deserves more explanation, but I need to get back to my room to study.
Have you ever missed the past? Yet at the same time known that your past you isn't the you now? And old dreams that have stopped recurring, stopped recurring for a reason?
Lies aside, the wound still aches, though rarely. I'm happy for friendship. I'm happy for growing and developing enough to have the maturity there. I do, however, miss the naive-ity, the fresh emotion, the pain, and everything else that came with it. It inspired something within me. Now, it's different. I do want to go back to being that unjaded person. Bettering myself for something intangible. But Arthur's court falters, then disintegrates, and those ideals are no longer upheld. Nor should they be, really.
I was never happy then. I know the pain. And I'm sorry that you're probably feeling it now. Maybe I'm even a worse person for being attainable. I can see what this has all done to you. I'd do anything to take it all back, give you the person whom I was several years previous.
I don't know what I want, nor whom I am. I don't want to ever relive history. I don't want things to have happened when they didn't in my past. I love you, I love her. The current has metamorphosed into something different.
In history, it fell. Completely. Something external. And it was different. I love her as a friend, and rational has since kicked in. We are different people. I'm glad we never were anything more than friends. And I'm not lying when I say that now.
I love you. I'm sorry for always hurting you. I'm in a dilemma, and both sides hurt equally. No matter what I do, I can't stop thinking, nor would ever be able to stop thinking about the other side. This deserves more explanation, but I need to get back to my room to study.