Departure and Repetitions, the Infinite Cycle of a Downfall
And so, she is gone and, with her, little pieces of myself leaving somewhat empty, as a husk. As my old self that still lingers around here and there through the corners of my mind. Making itself more present now. And stronger.
The way back home never was so long, tiresome and sad. All I could think about was her and how pathetic I am.
Her presence alone, nourished this flame. A flame inside my being that made my heart alight on every Monday and Wednesday and gave warmth to my soul, soothing the melancholy, giving me will to keep going, to not give up. Today, that flame has been put out, somehow, and the will is slowly fading, the warmth has left since I got the news she was departing, pursuing her dreams. Thus, leaving me behind, to rot, wither and die. I am such a selfish egocentric prick...
Today, once more, I realized that I am stuck, unable to move on, that I haven't changed one bit at all. I've realized that I could not follow her, even if she were to say it to me, explicitly.
At least I am going to cherish this memory of our first and last hug... Such soft and warm skin, such deep blue eyes and threads of gold falling over her shoulder... A carefree personality, and, yet, determined.
Her wits and mannerisms, her looks and wonderful personality, I am going to miss it all.
She was one of a kind, good and cruel at teh same time, even now my eyes are not yet dry. What kind of salvation can a person such as myself hope to have?
Someone that is unable to move on and improve himself, someone that is unable to express himself clearly and as a normal person do. There is no hope for this kind of people.
All I have, all WE have, people like me, those that are not your, nor her, kind of people, the rejects, the bad jokes, are the lullabies from the razor through the external shell. Paving the way for her, leaving open all doors, inviting the Death itself. As the crimson of our life creeps out, as a red carpet, and the tears building up, serving as foundations to hold inside of this shattered construction, a broken self of what-could-have-been-a-man-but-is-nothing.No one is going to walk in.
Being the coward that I am, I've only one thing to do: to kill time untill time kills me, so then, I shall become dust and vanish through the cracks in the floor and leave behind this wreckage I made from a series of bad decisions through life.
If only I could fastforward through this facade...
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2013
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