Book

 Okay, poetry, abandon my mind for a few.

Listen, paper, I don't want to use you. 

Leave, art, for myself you can't consume.

Silence, music, for my heart carries no tune. 

I'll echo my former self 

till my shadow lays no more. 

I'll hold and emotions shelf

Till dust mites my pages bore.

And hope in deafening might, 

my spine could attract unseen.

She who may in fevered fight,

Brush my painful years dust clean.

And take my book, tattered, worn,

perhaps something on its cover see

That inspires a look, upon pages torn,

And glean what has been, that made me... be.

And perhaps continue reading, 

in genuine intrigue.

See why my soul is bleeding, 

my spine withered with fatigue

And fingers brush the old bindings, 

that fraily hold me bare.

Barely holding, barely being, barely keeping, barely there...

And turn my pages gently, but with beautiful intent.

To read and gain mind entry, view the space and be content.

That, I myself conceal

something more than me

That my book is real, 

and in reading, discovers the meaning behind me. 

I've been crying a lot recently. Far more often in shorter lapses of time. Why?

Because my arm hurts.

I've let myself get this bad, and what? Blame me? If you must.

I never thought the singular person that I loved so dearly would bring me to the very point of just wanting my life to just end. To just stop. Slowly, creepingly I've gotten here. Letting things once important to me, just slip away, because my want and urge for them has all but faded. I write this here because no one will ever read this. Not one. And if they do, what? They had no idea I've felt this way. For year. And I don't blame them, but there it is. They simply just didn't know. Didn't see how I was descending. and even if they did... it wasn't on them to pull me up. I admit, that the mere gesture to try to pull me up, would, because it made me matter for those few seconds. I'm rambling. I'm scared. I hate things. I hate a lot. but I hurt more than I hate, and hate tires me. I needed you, Noel... I just needed you like you needed me. I needed to lean on you like I let you lean on me and you stepped aside. For whatever reason. I've been angry yes. Even now I'm crying because I felt so abandoned and disposed of. I needed you there. Urging me, smiling at me. Just... being there for me. as I tried to get back on my feet, from stumbling so much. I needed you. But... to pull the floor out from under me... and just like me plummet; That crushed me long before I would have ever hit rock bottom. And I haven't yet. And it looks like I'll simply die of weariness that's been drowning me, before I ever hit the bottom. Some promises are never meant to be broken. Because they break people. I stood by you, was there for you through everything that I could, and I trusted and believed you wanted that for mutually for us. I trusted you. I needed you. A lot of things led me to this point, but I cry the hardest from how heart broken I am that I've gotten this bad. I was stronger than this. Or so I felt. I was stronger than this, or so I thought. I'm co-dependent, to the degree that if my heart is hurt, there's not much else, because through it all, it still hurts. The things I've always valued are who I am. But being broken, punished and abused for it can only last so long before I crumbled. I... I can't stand up again. I can't slow my descent. And you were all I needed. You keeping your word, meant the world to me. Meant my life to me. Now I just hurt and sit in wait... for the pains to finally just take me and fade away. I cry. I wasn't strong enough for my Littlefoot. And I'll never forgive myself. From the moment that beautiful angel was born, she's been nothing less than my oxygen. And I've been suffocating for an inhumanly long time. I'm very tired. I'm ready to pass out now... Can I..?. please...?

I've been crying a lot lately.

because my arm hurts...

I'm pretty sure you did a number on me. You had to have done so, in order for me to feel so repelled by the idea of ever touching that game again. So repelled by it, that I was convinced I wouldn't be able to even touch it again. A game that we shared, and made some memories with. Of course had our laughs and some long conversations in. We wasted time, and sometimes never even played the game... just sat there and talked and joked around. That's a deep scar I have to wear now. And when you left, it shook my world. It shook it, because I had shared so much of it with you. So much of it... reminded me of you. So I pushed myself to put distance between me and everything that I could to lessen the ache and to ease myself into... forgetting some part of you. That decision included staying away from this game. This rang true for damn near a year.

It's pathetic sounding. I'll admit. Who cares right? Well, I do. Did? :: sighs:: Who knows anymore. Anyway yesterday blizzard sent out a gift email. It was a boost to 90 and 7 days free play time. It really didn't phase me... I was, after all, done with it. I shook my head asking myself "Can I, really?"Yeah, I thought it was cool, but where would I find the fun in even those few days of playing? I began the update to the launcher and game and ran away from the computer, to try to think about something else. For hours... just  away. When I finally came back, the game was ready.  I knew I'd be given pause as I touched it. I knew that I wouldn't be able to move well. I know myself enough. And I was right.

I loaded the game... There it was, the gift boost. Yay me. Now what? I switched servers. From Silvermoon to Arathor. Back and forth. Dozens of times. Wondering... what to delete... what to boost... Why should I? I tried to think of what fun things I could do... and they all tasted bland. Dry, hollow. And they all reminded me of you. Three quarters of an hour passed, and I had not once logged in yet. I saw the toons I worked up with you and wanted to throw up. Why the fuck? Why can't I just... live? I have never been too keen on regretting things, and I work hard to not have to. But fuck... sometimes I wish amnesia was able to be controlled and aimed at certain things. There's been lots of things that have given me great discomfort in dealing with them, and many that I avoid just because of the memories and emotions. I ask myself... if I am such a horrible person, why the hell did I get so much time to share so much of myself with someone? It just does not make sense.

Time goes past an hour when I finally convince myself to log in. An Arathor realm toon. I had forgotten some of the things I had done or where I was. That didn't last. As soon as I logged in, to an alt.... I saw where I was... it was the last place I had been, the last time I spoke with you in that game. And to make it worse... An in-game message popped up. Telling me something as if to make my situation a slight less bearable: ~Your reputation with your guild has dropped by 41999. Your are now neutral with your guild.~ I asked myself "What the hell?" And then it dawned on me. I was in your guild. Then the memories of how I woke up one day and logged in and found myself kicked out of your guild, removed from your friends on there as well. I said to myself.. no... Why do you have to do this? And then I stumbled through my skype and to find some sort of farewell from you. Again. Good times... right? I mean why remember such painful details of something so unpleasant? I don't know.

So there it is. I'm aching inside... not moving. not clicking anything. Just reading that horrid, merciless message. I log out. I switch servers quickly and sign into my old toons on Silver moon. I thanked god I never played those toons with you. Nor shared my guild with you. That would have brought me to tears. Yet... I knew there was something, some remnant of you somewhere. And I knew where. Something pleasant, yet painful. So I went looking for it just to get some sort of a smile. I logged out and switched again to my main on Arathor... the message again: ~Your reputation with your guild has dropped by 41999. Your are now neutral with your guild.~  Yes. Thank you... I am... quite aware of that.  I go to my bank... and sure enough... there it is. A copy of a letter you had sent me in game. I smiled. It was short, kind. Your nature of cute. A little nothing, that to me, meant the world today. Because I needed that smile. To remember, something not so painful. I read it. Sighed. Closed it. Stored it again.  And logged out. I may have gotten a bit of strength from it. Maybe... but it wasn't for that moment. Maybe for a moment in the near future. I closed the game. The letter will remain there for as long as the game deems it. I might even get further soon.

Just... Not yet.

And you said that I ruined things for you. :: chuckles::... Right. 

Imprint

All the sweet words in the world don't account for the truth in the things you do.

Be real: There's nothing more attractive than that.
Have courage: Fear will never answer an "what if."
Be sharp, but smooth; The blade's artistic precision is ruined if edge is jagged.
Be honest; Lies waste other's, but more importantly, your precious time.

People worth good energy flock to those whose eyes aren't veiled by grand illusions. Courage to answer what ifs is better than wondering for life. Let your personality be the sharp tool you use as you leave your mark upon the soul of those you meet, and let your care be the smooth edge that let's them appreciate said mark. Accentuate that mark with the comfort that comes from giving no reason for them to doubt

All these pretty, sweet things, are just that, words.

Until you leave your mark.

A mark, that can't be erased.

A mark, that they don't want to erase.

I don't need favors. I need kindness.

I feel such an ache, a pain so deep as I yearn for those that used to wonder about me. Those that wanted to speak to me and learn about me. So I could relay just how lonely and pain ridden I have become in their absence. What breaks my heart the most, is that it is not my fault they are no longer what I always offered them; A friendly ear.
No one knows this is even here. That I type these things. Because I am not seeking attention. But I need help. I desperately need it. 

People are strange, they hurt where they could heal. Sting where they could be a  salve. I am not expensive, in fact... I come free. But I pay for other's company with heartache and tears. I always wonder, but I strive to not let that change my outlook.



But I hurt.

I am in pain.

I'm drowning...

And it is only getting worse.

I don't need favors. I need kindness.

I may not need them... but I sure as hell still have them.

Words fall short of the wide spectrum of emotions I've felt and feel since your goodbye.

I hope things have been for you, and continue to go, well and exactly... as you wish.


Happy Birthday, Leia.

It's funny. It's always funny how life likes to rip into me. I feel lonely. And I have someone. But she had to deal with life and will be away for an uncertain length of time. I miss her. I want her next to me. Learning her... feeling her... breathing in her scent... Tasting her lips. I smile as I remember her gentle words. How I matter to her.

But that's what scares me. Those words were said to me quite often in the past. Sworn upon and promised with the deepest of situation dependent sincerity. Because they left me. They left me, hard. In no way were they gentle and in no way did they try to ease their breaking every promise they ever made. They almost broke me even further. Perhaps they did.

What I don't understand is why I can't shake the feelings that I have? I miss them sure. I don't lie to myself. I'm not trying to pretend like the relationships didn't exist. I'm not trying to forget. But.... healing is naught but impossible at this point. I shared so much with them, that every other thought somehow is connected to them. Who cares, right? Not them. I've been all but forgotten entirely, and yet here I sit, making another pointless homage to them like they will ever feel what I feel. Because it absolutely is not in the past tense. I don't work like that.

This loneliness is hard to deal with, but I deal. Somehow. Through my painful struggles with my actual life and my daughter consuming the majority of my thoughts; When I sit back and ask myself... why am I so alone in dealing with any of this... I can't seem to answer it. And the thing is... I'm not alone. I have someone who gets upset because she's not able to be here for me. To talk. To share. To learn. But her life has to come first before anything with us can be focused on... I just want her near.

I feel the familiar yearning... for the company of her, the person that makes me feel like I am more than another name. And this helpless yearning eats at me. Reminds me of my past... and I ask myself... things that I don't like. I've been made to feel replaceable and unimportant before. I pray that doesn't happen again. I'm so terrified. Afraid... that the same will happen... but I'm pressing on. I have to. I owe that to myself.

I owe thanks to those who tread on the shards of what's been left of my heart. You taught me that I'm still alive. And that I can feel. I just wish I didn't miss such hurtful people. What good is it doing me? Hoping the best for them, and wishing the best to them should be enough for my soul to rest... something takes this away.

Take your memories.

I don't need them.