Questions

How did her lips feel?
Was her hair black?
Could she taste the past?
Sense the guilt?
Even though, there really was no reason to feel guilty
But have you even talked about the life you could have had?
Why didn't you wait?
Why not give it time?
Why now?
Why her?
Why Why Why
And how could you mistake love when you were so sure?
How can you say you lacked the feeling
What feeling?
And how did it disappear?
Is mine going to disappear too?
What is love, then?
When did you know it was gone and how long did you let it fall?
And why must you smile? Why can't you cry?
How can you not CRY
Why did I cry? When I have no issue in the matter
But I know what it's like to have your heart shattered

And maybe I felt like I knew you
Maybe I feel a bit lied to
Maybe you're not so different after all
And I'm not ready to accept that yet.

So maybe I do have more questions than I asked
But then again, I don't really want the answers.

Guys.

It's funny how guys always tend to strike up a conversation with you as soon as their girlfriend breaks up with them. And you haven't talked to each other in months...

Price Chopper Eyes

there are three things that are eating at me at this point in my life. Three problems that I can't seem to resolve. Three things that I remember when I wake up from my blissful sleep of dreams. You know how right before you fall asleep you always find a little hint of contentment? It's like you finally find a little peace within yourself because you know that in just a few seconds or minutes you will escape into dreams. Even if they're nightmares, they're still far away from reality. Far away from emotional and physical pain.

Today I started crying in the parking lot of Price Chopper. I was listening to Creed's "Arms Wide Open" and it all overwhelmed me. I've been crying a lot lately. This morning, yesterday morning, last night, maybe even tonight and tomorrow, who knows? I looked up in the mirror and I saw my eyes. I always tend to look at myself as I'm crying and I wish I could scream, "Who are you? Where have you gone? What happened to your smile?" I hate the way my lips purse and my face just looks so dreadful. It's like a different person. It's not me.

And yet, when I looked at my eyes, I didn't feel that way. I actually kept staring at them, red and puffy and glossed over with liquid. They looked more prominent. My mascara started running and my eyeliner was smudging, yet for some reason, through all of that, I began admiring how beautiful my eyes looked, glossed over in tears.

And in a way, it's symbolic. You can see the beauty in a fallen world. You can see the light at the end of the tunnel. There's always that glimmer of hope.

Today I wrote in my journal for the first time in a long time. And I don't mean just in the sense of writing because I have written in it pretty recently, but I mean really writing. Writing and not caring what I write because that's how I feel and that's what is real. I wrote on the whole 45 min. ride to Rice and then when I got there I wrote until first bell rang. It was all just gushing and it felt so good. I realize how much better I feel after I write something down.

I want to be a good friend. I want to be a good girlfriend. I want to be a good daughter and sister. I want to be a good follower of Christ and overall a good person. But I feel like I fail so miserably sometimes. I mean, we all fail in life. We all fall short. But I hate failing when I know I'm failing and when I know I could do better.

I'm exhausted too. Problem #4