Saturday, August 28, 2010
What’s strange? That you’re online, and I don’t care. That you’re online and I don’t care, because I’m talking to somebody else. That you’re online, I’m talking to somebody else, I don’t care, and a month ago, we were almost married.
We were married K-man. Can you believe that? We were struggling to fight against life, just so we could be together. I loved you. You were my world. Hypothetically. That’s who we were. And now, we’re not talking? And I don’t care? And I’m getting the feeling that you don’t either?
It seems like it was all exaggerated to me. Was it the same for you? Or did you really love me. Are you thinking the same things I’m thinking, or is this much bigger for you. Did I break your heart, or did I just break the spell?
I am okay with moving on from this. I would love to be back with you, but I’m okay with moving on. Can you believe that? I sure can’t. Unbelievable. And somehow, I feel that you don’t want to get back to this either. That you’ve also realised how dazed and confused we were. How you never really felt what you thought you did and neither did I. How I was just a concept to you, and you were just a solution to me.
How truly very, very strange. Barely a month mister K. Hardly two weeks. Or maybe a month. Who can honestly remember.
As for you, you had a great night talking to him again didn’t you. It was fun, and you don’t feel cheap, because he talked to you, not him. And because you actually had something to say, for real this time.
All I’m going to tell you is that although you’re enjoying this rollercoaster that you’re on because you’re going up, and you don’t know what the turn of the tracks holds.. what goes up, will come down. And no one knows that better than you.
There’s an age where making mistakes is acceptable. An age where being loud and noticable is fascinating. An age where you want to be available to all, but in reach of none. And there is an age when all that becomes immature. When all that becomes a sign of weakness and seems pathetic. That is the age where no matter what your mistakes have been and what pits you have dug your way into, you have learnt from them, and are beyond doing them again. You are mature and wiser. And at that age, if you act like a woman who has learnt from her past, your past makes you who you are, not tarnish you. But if you go past that age without grasping that maturity, you are forever an overgrown child that will eventually be seen as nothing more than a pitiful piece of history.
This is your age to choose which one you will be. This is the last chance you get to avail to the statement that it’s not too late.