Almost 2 years later, I would like to say that my friend is correct =))
Crying is an escape. Each tear drop shows how the soul breaks. Each tear drop marks a weak point, an opening.
I hear them. They’re at it again. Seriously, God gave me this alarm thing… I always wake up a few minutes before they start arguing and I wont sleep until they stop. Why does He want me to hear this every night? Why does He want me to feel so unloved? Why do I feel like I’m the one to blame? Well, I’m sick of it.
I grabbed a bag and stacked clothes and snacks as quickly as I can and sneaked out. I cant take it anymore. I decided to just run away from it all.
I jumped into my car sometime after midnight and drove off to God-Knows-Where. Left my phone, my home… my life behind.
I found myself going to places I’ve never been to, seen or even heard of. This is all so new to me but I didn’t care… I wanted to get away. Then it happened… my car ran out of fuel.
I found myself in the middle of nowhere. It’s like there’s no sign of civilization close to where I am. I’m here; stuck in a place with no concrete; a place so dark; a place so infested with creepers; a place so messed up; a place so different.
I looked up at the sky then at my watch then back up. Will the sun ever come up?
Ugh. I feel like I’m pushing people away. I’m sorry :(
I havent seen you in a long time and I have decided to move on from wherever this was. But still, you give me this odd I’m still in awe look. I’m starting to think that’s just your default face.
I would like to share a story of a young girl who thought that everything in the world was not something disposable but replaceable. She believed that nothing would stand in the way of her dreams. She believed that everything the world had to offer was for her. She was sure, however, that these were not for her alone. She had believed that everything was made to make her life better. I think she had mistaken something easier for something better. This young girl had dreams. Some that she thought of herself but these dreams are mostly what people thought were good for her. There was so much hope for what she had to offer. She believed them; she trusted them for she loved them. They loved her. She was naïve.
All had changed after the death of the trust that was once there. Her father really had no choice. But maybe he did have a choice but he decided to choose the better path. What was better for him was not easy for her accept. Her once promising life had turned a new leaf. She shared so little. She spoke so little. Only talking when necessary. Sharing only those deemed important. She seemed insignificant to the eyes of some for she didn’t do much. But she had been a listener. She kept their secrets for, still, some trusted her. She had been keeping the sliver of memory of the trust she once shared with the people she loved hoping that one day things would be better. They had deemed her promising. They had hoped for the better from her
I would like to share a story of a young girl who thought that everything in the world was something disposable and replaceable. I didn’t know that one could be disposable but I definitely feel replaced.