Saturday, March 12, 2011

but they can sing.

Because I'm not that same girl you once knew, you know, the bold but shy girl who went along with plans and thought everything to be ... well, in the palm of her hand. Five years have passed, and I've had a taste of life. Just a little taste. But even so, I'm not the same.

And I'm not sure how we both got here and there, and I'm not sure how today became different from back then, but the fact is that it happened. Everything has happened.

So don't expect me to be that girl, the one with the plan, the one with the world at her feet. I'm in a corner now.


She's the reason that I'm still here, and you're the reason I want to be here, and everything is so twisted and beautiful and painful all at once that I really don't know how I feel about anything anymore, and so I'm just telling myself that if I take a step back and let things unfold that I'll be fine, I'll be just fine, and I'll be able to breathe whenever all is said and done. Because now, I have this lump caught in my throat and I struggle to catch my breath over the simplest of things.

It's a great thing, really. Truth.


Hypocrites. We're all hypocrites.

But they can sing.
And to what measure will they go to to save that? How much value is one redeeming quality compared to the rest? and when will you learn the simple things, when will you learn to be like the others?

You're not a child. You know this.


[I just want you to tell me I'm beautiful.]

And the difference is, that there is a difference. That it means something more, something deeper. Maybe not to you, but to myself. That when you are in the picture, I'm walking on pins and needles. And I try so hard to be what you want me to be.

And I try so hard to be in the background.
I try so hard to disappear.

And I try so hard to put things together for you.


It's all worth it,
because those two? They sing.