why is it that the ones we love (or who love us) don't ever say it enough? why is it never enough..? or why is it conditional?
why is it that the ones we give our love to (or the ones who give their love to us) aren't the ones who write long love-letters? why is it that when we search for a pair of arms to hold us.. why is that when we think we've found them they tell us they have to leave--promising all the while of their return to you, even when you know that every return brings another daunting, hopeless new start?
if love and relationships are truly based on friendship, does that then guarantee its ease? its timelessness?
i have more questions of course but they're all based on one longing, wailing, sobbing, why.
i had hoped to surround myself tonight with people my age.. with friends who understand me.. but its never easy to have them when you want them.
So though i'd like things to be different, better.. though i long for something i cannot even name and am saddened by its absence, i will stand by.. a blur of fading color, too soon and too quickly drained.
this thing will move away from me and then a little of me will pass away with it.
20:33 - Friday, Nov. 04, 2005
Recent entries:
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