03 ноември, 2014

worth saving

I keep saying that you're the one changing the story. Well, this time I won't wait for a movie to make me cry in order to admit it all.
Why I tried so hard? Why I fought and hoped against hope? Why I let you drag me trough all the possible circles of hell and even create some new ones for me?
Because I believed it was my fairytale. Because I am a dreamer and I am the kind of person who'd be here for all your crappy moods and periods and who'd forgive you all your craziness. Because I don't give up on people all that easily and I give them all the chances I have in the world, even if it breaks me.
And back then, it was a tragedy and a lesson and I love every part of that other story. I love the ghosts of it all around, I love the other blog, I love the posts, I love the music, the thoughts.
This?! I hate all of it and all of me for trying so hard. Yes, I would have felt regret and thought that we could have made it, I would have stayed up all night remembering things. But that way, by letting you break me so bad, I can start fresh and repair the damage and not look back for you. What I look for is me.
But in all honesty, there was a point where I wanted all this to be the story that I tell my little girl while you are holding her. I wanted it to be one of those stories people smile about through tears, because it's epic. I wanted that piece of paper to be my future. But that didn't go away on its own the way it did before. You made it go away. You took away my fairytale and you burned it down to the ground. So now I can hear the clock ticking again, but it's not counting the seconds to an end, it is just passing by and letting me see things through a different perspective. The clicking sound may have happened or not but it doesn't matter. Because at this point I can no longer recognise the person I once imagined a life with and so it's safe to say that I made it up at some point. I was so determined to give everything and do my best that I didn't even realise how I was the only one doing so.
Now I say it was a lesson and I hate myself for ever letting you be such an important part of my life. And I myself wonder why I ever did that. So this time I'm not really changing the story. The story changed for me and it turned into a nightmare. And Callie is right: "But no matter how hard we try we have to realise that some things just can't be fixed."
I am done fixing. I walked away, I am moving on. I am not even trying to fix myself. I am letting myself be happy and I am taking everything slowly, enjoying my freedom. The freedom to be myself and to not fight for everything all the time. And it feels just right sometimes. Others I get bored and I need the drama that I am still so used to. But this new me loves all the scars and insanity. I've learned a lot and I keep reminding myself of the lessons, because I know how easy it is to believe the lie, the illusion and to forget about yourself in the process.
And I have no idea how I ever thought that things can be okay between us ever again. I am way better without you in my life. I sleep better, I don't drown in my sleep, I don't feel the time passing as knives stuck in my chest, I don't need to be reminded to breathe and for the first time in a long time I know that I can be happy on my own. 
What no one understands is that it is my story. Even if I chose someone to share it with, it is still my story and my choices and desires. I fought and I lost, but it is my world all the same. I don't feel like my life ends when someone leaves. I feel like my world might not be better for it, but I will be eventually, when I see things clearly and learn all my lessons. I'd very much like to say that I'm sorry, but the one I should be saying it to is me, for pushing so hard, for hoping, for breaking and losing the little sanity I had left. But the more things break me, the better my writing will be, so still it is all about me and I am grateful for my stupidity if it means that my story will be so much more real. 
I know, my mind is sick and twisted. And there is no beauty in goodbye. There are only all your hopes and dreams burning. The goodbye itself is never beautiful. It goes with lots of tears and screaming, begging. What is beautiful is to see all your hopes and dreams burn down to ash and to find it in you to hope once again when all you believed you've had is gone. The beauty is in surviving. And I, for one, will do my best to make it. 

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