robscarlett

I can feel my walls coming back. It doesn't bother me and it isn't a bad thing...it just is.
Right now I can feel sad. Sad for what I've lost and what she lost. Sad for what never will be and what is to come. Sad for the next person who has to fight and claw and dig their way inside...only to find that there is no buried treasure. No secret left behind. Just dirt...and me....like I've always told them.
Each day and night I grow more and more numbed to the pain my the space where my heart used to lay.
Each day as my phone doesn't chime with the news of a new text msg saying someone loves me I grow colder and more at ease with the cold.
Each night as I drift off to sleep while staring at her side of the bed...pushing blankets that she once would steal into a pile pretending she's still there...only to pull them back and drift off to sleep. The dreams don't wake me anymore I just sit in them knowing what they are...dreams...and all I have till morning which comes too soon.
I hope each and everyone who reads my journal is well. If anyone of you needs anything let me know....I say this with each closing but...if I can help I will.
Take care.
And Remember:

Acquainted with the Night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rainand back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

by Robert Frost