Write, now what?

You aren’t coming back are you?

I want to wait for you to come rescue me.

You’re not coming back.

Nothing ever comes from sad stories. I’ve hurt my self. Steering wheels are amazingly hard when you hit them. Bruises. I’ve always been prone to them. When I was little I would look at them every day to gage their color. From purple grey to a sickish yellow to non existent. Cutting feels the same way. It hurts and as it builds tears in your eyes you realize you can feel, that you aren’t a robot, that something inside you still carries whispers. As the pain ebbs away you long for to come back. A rush like doing drugs for the first time. But guilt is a funny thing. So you let the pain slip away. I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to be alone with myself. Its dark in here. Too dark.

Struggle. I hope to come out of this knowing more about myself and my weaknesses. I am swimming in what I feel is grey water. I want black sand beaches with crystal clear waters. I want freedom.

of course she’s beautiful. She’s broken. Prime real estate if you play your cards right. She’s young. But she’s had a hard life, evident by her profession. Dancing. Looked down upon by many but a gold mine for the one that can use it to their advantage. She talks about music, you laugh and think to yourself “she’s smart, cute, but what lurks behind her sarcasm?” The night gets later the drinks become heavy in your stomachs. The. Conversation can go one of two ways and to your relief and honest surprise she starts to talk about life. Not the day to day niceties but about a future. Her dreams and lazy life long ambitions. A coffee shop in a quiet town outside a big city, preferably near a large body of water… an ocean. She grins with perfect bliss of the thought. Sand between her toes salt water clouding her vision lost for a moment. It hits you hard a tons of bricks would be too cliche. A car wreck to horribly beautiful… its like drowning g in a lake no ripples past the point of fighting you love her. But that girl you love isnt me. I’m watching from the corner. I have always had a thing for ease dropping, and first dates are my favorite. Its all so new and exciting. I miss it to be honest.

I’m not exactly sure of what I am doing. I had so much to write a day ago. But I’m failing. I fail. I fall.