Monday, May 09, 2011

It's a peculiar feeling, really.

Late nights (or super early mornings - take your pick).
My mind is still.

Except for one thing.

The only thing.
That little nudge in the back of my head.
It's been sitting.
Exponentially growing.
And waiting.
Waiting for the right time to break me.

Every night.
Every single night, the last thing I remember, I playback, I recall, I wish for.
It grows.

Now, more than ever.
With the end (or beginning) coming quickly, and only a few weeks left for decisions to be made, or hopes to be dashed, and I just can't pull myself to say the words that need to be said.

I am a coward.
I am afraid of hurt, afraid of failed expectations, and most of all, afraid of telling myself "I told you so." once again. I want you to take the first move, to delegate the pieces to where they need to be, but you haven't. And I want to tell myself it is because of lack of courage on your part, seeing as past events support that claim. I just wish you would take the first step.

And if you don't?
I may never have the courage to do that which you cannot.

Fear is such a peculiar feeling.

Tonight, I'm not ending with a quote. My mind is filled with too much to think of one to fit this feeling I find myself in. Rest is near.

Respectfully submitted,