herlucidlife

I always knew you’d come back. I never wanted to be available when you did, it occured to me that you’d make sure you were taken but the reality of it all still held more weight than I’d liked. By now you’re probably like, just get over it already, right? I’m feeling the same way, why doesn’t that stop the thoughts still? 

Always liked to think I was mentally tougher than what the evidence had shown, that maybe the proof was wrong. Yet, I look around and it seems that perhaps we’re all more mentally tired than we’d like to lead on. Loving flattened me out; flattened the hills of my mind, flattened out the mountains in my heart, funny how flattened can feel reckless. Not sure if I’m making sense, like would you want your daughter to have this experience with a man from her life? 

I wouldn’t want this for my child, you wouldn’t want it for yours so why do this to someone else’s daughter? We not blood but could you have the same amount of compassion as if we were? I have so many questions for me, for you, for us and the thing I just can’t let go of is…why let go of the person you love the most for the things that could be cultivated between the two? Sometimes I wonder if I let go of the right things to obtain what I’d had all along. 

Though this life is about give and take, I never know the repercussions until after the fact and I can’t go back. Saying things like, “oh it just wasn’t supposed to happen that way” or “it just wasn’t meant to be.” But how can creatures who have no authority over time; past, present, or future, who have no visuals on the world map of life, creatures who can’t even fathom how many possibilities there are to the life we live…How in the world can you say with confidence that “it wasn’t meant to be?” You wouldn’t even know your name if God didn’t tell you.

So no, you don’t know what is meant to be and the only reason you tell yourself that lie is because it’s the only way you can go through life being able to accept the little control you have. With the small maneuvering we did have, we chose to let go, so what does that say about what was meant to be? I don’t really care about what is meant to be or meant to happen, what I care about is the severity of the reality we live in. I live in a reality that is void of romantic love. 

I live in a reality that doesn’t sugarcoat the way I feel about you. I live in a reality that is brutally honest about the paths I’ve chosen to take, so don’t come to me with your honey coated lies of “it wasn’t supposed to happen.” No keep that for the pathetic soul that needs your negative optimism, I’d rather have the truth. We messed up the hand that was dealt, we’re waiting for the dealer to give more cards but don’t hold your breath because just maybe we weren’t “supposed to happen.”