Sunday, October 07, 2007
From the pages of a forthcoming novel
She lives on an ugly street pulling out weeds just for friends she meets. She waits for time to remind her of all her mistakes. She figures that's enough inspiration to see what more she can take. She leans on false hope in dark corners. Deals with men less likely to love or honor her. I loved her, though. Sacrificing everything I had to give her more than I'd ever dream. An investment in love is like guessing with your eyes closed. You mean well but without the legs of time to stand on, you never know if your decision is as sound and true as the wanting invading the walls of your soul from head to toe. I made mistakes and therefore I struggle. I suffer because I'm hard on myself. Too much time on my hands forces me to look into the mrror of hindsight. I underline thoughts translated as, you should've known better. Now I walk around as a man others fear to touch but that's nothing compared to my fear to love. It just seems like too much sacrifice at this point and I'm just a little too tired right now...