wishicould

Here I am stuck inside of never ending possibilities. I hate my over active brain sometimes, I want so badly to be concise and determined. If for one moment I could be, I think that I'd be able to tell you what I want, instead of always rolling with the way you want it to be. Maybe I'm guilty of caring too much about others, more than myself, I've always felt that was the reason so many people liked me. I never want for happiness, your happiness makes me feel good. All I want is to exist and be a part of this expierence, how ever inconsiquential that may be. How ever temporary this may be. Sometimes when the lights are down and all is quiet I can actually let myself go, and I know that I'm still here, still contributing, still breathing. And then I'm blessed with a dreamless night. Why do I have such a hard time trying to find the who, in me. I used to know, before I ever really knew what knowing was. Now I just pretend, now I just reach out for somrthing to call my own. When all I want is to be loved again. The next time I will pay more attention to the smaller things that keep us tethered to each other. The things that kept us fighting, kept us smiling, kept us stuck together on hot nights, when money didn't determine anything, were we naive? I think I got angry that you remembered, and thought that I had forgotten. I really did remember, pitifully as it sounds to me now. I had a funny way of showing my appreciation. I wish I could take back all the things I said, Just Like The Way You Wish You Could Take Back The Night You Stayed In His Bed...