I break apart
When I slow down and think about you and what has happened I break apart. It doesn’t matter if it’s for the best, I don’t hold together. Things slip and that ache fills into my chest, and behind my eyes. The strength that is left only wants to work towards repairing the situation and it’s blind work is just reopening the wound.
I will push through. I will.
I only hope that I can recover most of the pieces as I heal up. I want to continue to believe in things unseen. I want to keep romantic ideals and goals. I want to believe in sanctuary, the soul, and being special.
I’m making this harder that it has to be. More painful than it has to be. I’m trying to keep something alive because as long as it lives there’s the potential for more. It’s silly but I have to believe in a chance, no matter how remote or painful it is. I’ll sacrifice a portion of my self for the potential; because life is worth living if there exists a hope for a better tomorrow.
“Life without hope renders any action meaningless.” -Phillip Nutman
I will heal and I will still dream.
