...and I wanna stick it through the mailslot of your front door.
There's nothing pretty to say about this. I am ashamed, of my actions and my behaviours, and mySELF. I don't always do things for the right reasons. I can't reverse time. I can't undo reality. and I don't like to think love is like war...

I am guilt's best friend you know. We go way back. She's always around, delivering bitter bits of old chocolate and news. Sometimes I think I like it. I know I don't do everything right. And I know I hurt you last night. It was my choice to be indecisive and to let you get upset. I wanted to hear you fight for me because I was getting lost in my head. I couldn't find my own way out. I thought maybe you could help me, even if your tone of voice was scared and angry instead of directing. I wanted something that had no name and I wanted nothing. I told you I wanted nothing because I couldn't decide what I wanted. I wanted you. I hope that you can understand it's not a matter of would-you-rather hurtmelikethisorlikethat. So I'm sorry I'm so crazy. I hope you can understand it all. I know you can and I'm pretty sure you do. And so now I'm just tired.

And I feel guilty. But I'm not going to hold on to that either. I'm going to seal it off in the vault of past tense. And I'm going to take steps onto the fresh new ground of the future, with you. I'm not going anywhere. And that's a promise. And here's a little folk quote that I like to keep in mind: "My compass, faith in love's perfection." Yeah, perfectly imperfect. I never could have imagined...

08/02/2002

Posted on 08/02/2002
Copyright © 2024 Betania Tesch