This is the definition of personal. I lay it at your feet with only one expectation. I do not doubt you as a friend. But this is fragile so please tread lightly.
"Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
-William Butler Yeats
First.
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
I am such a masochist. I can't fucking help it ether. I know the right thing to do. I just can't.
In every breathe lives the devil.
A haunting reminder of what should have been.
What could have been.
A child not mine and a life that was once in my future.
That possibility is gone.
An anachronism of sorts.
And it lingers.
I once knew a peace that could be described as the closest thing to perfection man will ever get. The kind of peace that is palpable and sounds like music and sunsets and long morning walks on the beach. It was above special. It was above happiness. It was my own private nirvana on earth. There was no time back then. It was just one smile and one kiss and one walk in the park and one deep conversation and one drunk night with friends and a boat ride on ruff seas, the riders oblivious to the world enchanted and consumed by a rapture like those spoke of in timeless love stories. A harmonious picture of everything good in the world.
And then it ended. She ended it. A betrayal that stopped the world from spinning. A new formed black hole sucking emotion after emotion deep into some unknown singularity.
Yet it linger.
Yet she lingers.
Years later my every breathe sounds her name from somewhere deep inside and I am helpless.
Last.
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
Hey, how's it going? I know I haven't talked to you in quite awhile...{Name changed to prevent every sort of potentiality} has been home for the last 2 months. He wanted to find a job where he's home every night but ended up going back to trucking. He left yesterday and it's nice to finally have a breather.
So how have you been? I miss talking to you. I'll give you a call soon.
-roguemind 
