Time - RdV - MR Me(7)
Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of all things…
Usually I wright when I’m down. But when feeling down and wrighting, I feel worse. It’s been a long time since I wrote from the deepest, darkest room in my heart. A room where only a few will ever. Some may exit again. Some may stay. Only time can tell…
Well today while watching television, I had this urge just to wright and post a blog again. It’s been more than a month since Rochelle and I left each other. I still think about him daily, hourly, every single minute and every second. As I am wrighting this, he is overseas somewhere in the Netherlands on a yacht sailing the seas. Almost floating away from me as the wind blow the yacht of ‘end’ further.
Today is the 12th September 2006. In five days time Rochelle will arrive in SA again. Stepping from that plane into the real world again.
I left him because he didn’t make me part of his life. Now, after several fights and begging, the 17th September 2006 will be the last day in my life where I can feel part of Rochelle’s life. Where I have a vague idea of where he is and what he is doing. But the 17th will come and the 17th will go. Almost like that yacht sails nearer to its final destination. Guided by the choices sailors made.
Choices…
It’s been more than a month. I’ve shed my first tears on the 16th August 2006. Crying myself to sleep. Wondering whether I’ll hear from him again or not. Was it my choice to leave that fake fool?
It’s hard to think. 79 days from now, I will get onto a plane and fly to Europe. Visiting the same cities he did. Wondering if I’ll step on the exact spot where he might have stood. Gazing at breathtaking views.
Just the thought, “Did he ever think about me during this trip of his?”
Hard to think people will enter that ‘special’ place in your heart. Just to break free and exit it again without ever saying goodbye. Without ever justifying their words. Put those words into action.
While wrighting this, the tears stream over my face. Leaving paths on my skin where he once touched me. Dripping on my chest and disappearing on the black T. Pity my sorrows can’t exit me as well. Leaving my eyes wet, but my heart clean.
Usually I wright when I’m down. But when feeling down and wrighting, I feel worse. It’s been a long time since I wrote from the deepest, darkest room in my heart. A room where only a few will ever. Some may exit again. Some may stay. Only time can tell…
Well today while watching television, I had this urge just to wright and post a blog again. It’s been more than a month since Rochelle and I left each other. I still think about him daily, hourly, every single minute and every second. As I am wrighting this, he is overseas somewhere in the Netherlands on a yacht sailing the seas. Almost floating away from me as the wind blow the yacht of ‘end’ further.
Today is the 12th September 2006. In five days time Rochelle will arrive in SA again. Stepping from that plane into the real world again.
I left him because he didn’t make me part of his life. Now, after several fights and begging, the 17th September 2006 will be the last day in my life where I can feel part of Rochelle’s life. Where I have a vague idea of where he is and what he is doing. But the 17th will come and the 17th will go. Almost like that yacht sails nearer to its final destination. Guided by the choices sailors made.
Choices…
It’s been more than a month. I’ve shed my first tears on the 16th August 2006. Crying myself to sleep. Wondering whether I’ll hear from him again or not. Was it my choice to leave that fake fool?
It’s hard to think. 79 days from now, I will get onto a plane and fly to Europe. Visiting the same cities he did. Wondering if I’ll step on the exact spot where he might have stood. Gazing at breathtaking views.
Just the thought, “Did he ever think about me during this trip of his?”
Hard to think people will enter that ‘special’ place in your heart. Just to break free and exit it again without ever saying goodbye. Without ever justifying their words. Put those words into action.
While wrighting this, the tears stream over my face. Leaving paths on my skin where he once touched me. Dripping on my chest and disappearing on the black T. Pity my sorrows can’t exit me as well. Leaving my eyes wet, but my heart clean.
posted by Too cute for you. at 8:55 PM
1 comments
