timberwork

What have I been doing the last year of my life? Where the hell has my mind been? I guess I’m just realizing this now because the person I thought I’d always be with is gone. How are things so different, but at the same time so similar? After semi-accepting the fact that the relationship I fought so hard for is over I am trying to tell myself that this will only make you stronger. Yea, unless it just kills me all together. How do people see the light at the end of the tunnel? Even the ones that are so far away that all they can distinguish is a tiny speck of white surrounded by an infinite amount of dark, but that speck is still there. I may not even be able to give myself enough credit to say “semi-accept” because that speck of white hasn’t been distinguished. All I want to be is cold and emotionless. I was told that the opposite of love is not hate, but rather carelessness. A genuine attitude of “I don’t even care.” From my eyes you’ve mastered that. Majority of the time spent communicating with you I am swallowing lumps in my throat and taking long pauses to keep myself from losing it, whereas you, you speak switfly and unanimously. The thought of the way you speak to me is so mind boggling and unattatched that I find it hard to relate to you at all now. Who is that? Who talks to me? It can’t possibly be you. I shouldn’t even be doing this. Spending time and energy to sit here and type my thoughts. I should be getting over you. Such a sensitive thing. Is that good or bad? Sensitivity? Someone loyal and passionate might think it is. Then who am I? Because sensitivity is cowardly in my eyes now. I’ve heard that when saying a sentence with the word “but” in it the statements said before but don’t really matter at all because what comes after but is what the person is really meaning to say. I know you and I will probably never work and that I should let you go, but I know that I love you too much to let that happen. 

Yes, I am crazy.