Tuesday, June 5, 2012


There is an inherent rift between us that has the eloquent tendency to keep us apart.
For years I tried to attribute it to circumstance. Poor timing here, unfortunate chance there.
Wrapped in the complete darkness of a sleepless night, I knew we loved each
other deeply. I knew we could become something greater than ourselves.
The hopeless romantic I tend to be, mind you, to a detrimental degree, thought: Everything is math. Things will work out as long as we believe. As long as there is love, every other detail becomes microscopic and insignificant, because the core of it was present. Which is harder to come by.

I don't know where you belong. I don't know where I belong. I just feel like we don't belong together. I belong nowhere near you.
And it breaks my heart. Because if it's not you, it could be anyone. I'm nothing that you need — and that is all I could ever hope for. To be needed. To be an essential factor. To be wanted.
To be missed. To be held. To be trusted. To be regarded as important and almost be seen as dependable.

Somewhere in our mythical daydream, we failed.
And that's what it is, I suppose. An endless tear in the seam.
The vast canyon of our indifference.

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