Yeah, it's been 8 years.
It's been 9 years, and it hasn't changed.
God never took back his choice, and I still only sometimes dream and imagine your voice.
It's been 9 years, and it's still the same.
And I might as well have just taken pictures to document the moment, because everything in my head does seem to blacken.
Though, I feel like I did take pictures, all I can see are flashes and snapshots.
But I must have set them on fire, because they are dark, crunched up, and falling apart.
They're just withering away with the passing of days.
They say everything gets easier with time.
Does it?
Or do you just forget?
Though, I don't wear it on my arms, it's there, somewhere under the denim, the cotton, and 9/10 some shade of blue.
No matter the color, it's there, it's true.
It's flame doesn't burn the same as it did, but there are embers that I feel ignite and fight to burn through my skin, when I try to hide behind those walls that I built up since then.
They are so thin.
But my walls have always been strongest when I try to ignore what they are there for.
When I try to just act like there's nothing there, that "
I'm fine, that Iv moved on." I'm just hiding behind the quotations.
The fact is that I don't think I can really handle what happens the right way, and that I never really could.
My dad told me a story when it happened.
I didn't remember saying this, what a coincidence.
He said son, why aren't you crying anymore?
It's okay to be sad.
Meanwhile I'm just holding a blank face, tear stains still on my face.
I guess he must have seen a struggle.
I said, I hid it.
Where did you hide it?
Deep inside. (Gesturing to my chest.)
Who taught you to do that?
I did it all by myself.
And He said I was smiling.
Smiling at the accomplishment.
And I look back, on this story, at a child I don't recognize, and I realize that maybe I have just been doing that my whole life.
I think I do it and don't even know it.
I have done it with all the girls in my life.
They would walk right in and walk right out, and somehow I was the only one left without.
I never really let go, I move on, but in the sense that I have to and that I have no choice.
My feelings never fade, they just get old with age and those damn passing of days until they
Cant remember even their own face.
But, I don't regret anything.
I don't want to take back the moments with them, I still love them or I remember exactly how it felt when I did, and I sometimes find myself wishing that the part of me in them wasnt dead, that if anything, my actions would have killed it, and not just the thoughts in their head.
The thoughts the were born in the passings of days.
And I don't want to take back anything from with my brother.
Or anything that happened between my father or my mother for that matter.
Iv become who I am because of them.
And as for God, I strayed from my walk, we seldom even talk.
I don't know whether he is there, if he is anywhere,
If he was ever there, of it was all just just in my head.
An echo bounding back to me, all the reverbs of my wants and fears of is and has to be.
Sometimes I want to go back, to believe.
I want to go back to that chapter in my life where I really felt something.
Completely content and nothing could put a damper on my day, I wish I still saw the world that way.
I don't know, Iv just been rambling, but I guess this is just me confessing.
No need for you to go off guessing or anything, this is me and this is everything.