period.
am not certain but i might be mad at myself. perhaps i imagined it, that it was to me what it was not to him. with the passing of time, history, malleable as one’s memory becomes what one wills and then you lose sight of the reality that had passed. how does one know the direction of one’s heart? does the heart or head rule or does the head override the what might actually the heart feel? or perhaps there is too much noise in the head and i hear not the heart or that it was all the figment of my imagination. time passes and it does get easier to breath but find myself thinking of him at the most unexpected moments, catching myself and the realisation stumped. am not sure if i speak honestly. sometimes think am only as honest as the people around me and right now am surrounded by the worst of the lot. too much of a chamealon for my own good. no matter, at the end i turn to reason and hold on tenaciously to this one thing that i would like to believe i have and rationalise everything into neat bundles to fit into these compartments of my making. stubborn singular stupidity, that’s my strong suit.
someone new comes along and i wonder if it is what it could be or that it is one of those transient moments that flits as passing butterflies and it’s all that i am allowed to have. in fleeting moments i should satisfy this unyielding passion that i am perhaps too eager to lavish on one person?
is it that am unaccustomed to talking about this or that am just full of shit?! am not certain. perhaps on hindsight but when is that to come? when will i look back and know that it was an illusion that i have so carelessly indulged in and squandered my heart on nothingness but a figment of my imagination. i loved you. perhaps i still do. perhaps it is not a question i want to answer. perhaps i should stop.
