If I breathe in heavily I can still smell you on my skin…

Breaking the silence to say absolutely nothing at all, then slip as quickly as he came back into the ether. Nothing gained, no less confusing. She’s really not interested in your games anymore, she’s not interested in decoding the method in your madness anymore. It’s hard to care when she knows what’s going to happen again, as its done over and over again. All these empty words, all these empty promises… It’d be so nice to believe you at all, but she can’t seem to find the energy right now. It’s empty. Nights spent hoping you were better than that. But it all seems to be be the same.

A year ago today was my other yesterday
when we stood motionless at a forked road
Better off without you. Making your case
Nothing to be done, you just had to go

I’ve bucked up, with chin up
I’ve fucked up, I’ve woke up
I’ve moved on, and came back
Been sucked into your rat trap
and still this washes over me, constantly
carefully surfacing all of your memories

The longer I stay in the place, the more and more I think I’m not doing what’s right for me…

——-

“Watched a graffiti documentary last night… It just brought up all these feelings about so many things in my life and boy[relatively speaking], and… just wanting to do something big in my life.. You know? And just how graffiti for people is therapy, it’s a passion, it’s a lifestyle. and I feel like I’ve lost that and that scares the shit out of me…”

I wonder what I’m doing here, what keeps me here, even though I know the answer: My job. And how crazy, or irresponsible it would be to just up an leave, and I know the answer to that too: Very. Something is pulling me though and it’s stronger every day. And I feel a breaking point off on the horizon. There’s a gut feeling when something is right, when something is wrong, and when something is worth going after.

I saw a photo of your little sister the other day; smiling on the beach. She finally made it to the ocean and it made me so happy. I miss her…

It’s almost been two weeks since you’ve went away. Sometimes I find it hard to feel much of anything about it all, it’s easier to miss you less because of the way and circumstances in which you took your vow of silence, however temporary or not it may be. Resentment patches the spaces between the despondent nostalgia and I can’t help but wonder where the fuck your head is at.

I always scan the railroad crossing for some sign of life. The rain pelted my windsheld as the warning bells sounded on the tracks. I thought about calling, and the I thought about how I probably shouldn’t have the other night. I thought about a lot of things that let me right back to where I was. Ambivalence overwhelms the breaking dawn and that pulse is wearing thin. It’s a beautiful escape plan, I’ve seen it before and again. I’m not worried, but as the minutes pass by I feel my patience wanning ever so lovely.