'Critically Acclaimed' Romance & Flames
I pondered the thought of 'critically acclaimed' romances- the star-struck, picture perfect, walking on the moon-kind. I balled the idea up, and threw it out the window as I made a left.
It's not what I want. Granted-the idea of a perfect relationship-bells and whistles is appealing-but what I've come to find, is you don't attach yourself to picture perfect-it's too far gone in society, least in my mind.
I just want someone to share everything with-this life- this body-this mind. I miss trying to 'him' laugh or smile, or creating something special- nothing goes as planned-and that's what memories are made of, that's what you hold eachother and laugh about together. I miss that.
I have so much to share- and I almost have this feeling of being trapped, not being able to let it out.
It's rough, too. I think I've finally tied off all loose ends once attached to my heart, and only occasionaly stumble over threads of what I used to be a part of. So much of me is proud- but there's a part of me which won't let me throw things out, or let go. It's hard to imagine yourself arguing internally about a photograph, or a poem, or a letter, or card, even worse is when I realize that the common sense side...... totally lost that battle.
Since the fire, I have lost most of the photos, gifts and nostalgia I would have otherwise never thrown out, and I understand that losing all of that, rather than makning the decision to cleanse myself of it makes a difference. It's reflected in my desire to create new memories, and duplicate copies and you can't force those things. And everywhere you go are reminders, a friends house where photos line the walls and span over years and years. I don't have that anymore.
I've been looking at it as a blessing, that I don't have to get wrapped up in all of those old emotions, from moments long lost and forgotten. So much of me doesn't want to forget- and I'm afraid I will forget. I miss the things that mattered-and they were the priceless possessions. I didn't cry over anything else-but the pieces of me I lost.
It's a driving force-it's why I haven't thrown out a couple of things- which remind me of people I have learned to let go of.
I'm feeling this way- and I'm sorry. When I drove home from my mom's house, there was smoke, and that smell, and my eyes welded up with tears and my heart raced. To my left I saw the flames and tears came streaming down my face. Even though it was just a field fire- It was too close for comfort, and I realized how weakened I was by it-and all I wanted was someone to hold me, and tell it was all going to be alright. I don't have that right now.
I want to be strong and independent, but life is teaching me, that we are not designed for solitude, at least not me. I don't need anything like the movies, over-exagerated, and superficial. But everyone need's a somebody-critically acclaimed or not.