Trying to unsettle my stable mind.

My mind has been frighteningly stable lately. I don’t have those sudden bursts of wild emotions that I normally have, where I feel either completely loved or ditto ignored. Now, all I seem to have is a “normal” that just stays the same. I feel like I’m generally happier, but not AS happy as I used to be able to be, but of course – nor am I as sad as I could be.

I don’t really doubt that it’s related to how things are going with you (I know I swore to stop the you-ing many posts ago, but it’s just easier). You were the basis for my wild mood swings the last five years, and now – when we’re apparently falling apart – those mood swing just die out.

In some ways I’m pleased. It’s almost always nicer to be glad than sad. But I miss you. It’s just not the same (well, duh) as it used to be. I don’t expect messages from you to be flowing in all through the day, quite the contrary – I’m amazed whenever I see a text from you.  And, undoubtedly, you have an effect on my writing. I’m just not nearly as inspired when you don’t throw my mind from corner to corner, side to side, high to low. You’ve always been the centre of my greatest love poems, as well as my most depressing ones. Now there’s just a big mellow middle that doesn’t really draw me to pen and paper.

I remember, around New Year, I wrote that since you came back in my life, just when it seemed you had left it for good, I would take advantage as best I could to do some of the best writing I had ever done, and I did that. Now, if this is the final break, I will just have to figure out a way to keep on writing even though you’re not there to love or frustrate me.

It still just seems weird, since you were my only ‘plan’, the only part of my future I had always counted on, always been sure about. I was convinced we would be together, having the weirdest yet best relationship in human history. You: never believing in happiness, I: always trying to win you over to the idea through love poems. I’m not sure if any of us would ‘get anywhere’ with our lives, or if the relationship would last that long, but I’m sure we would have a blast as long as it could last.

I’m not really talking like someone who’s as over you as I claim to be. I’m probably not. I don’t think about you nearly as much as I used to, but – and I guess that just goes to show how much I thought of you – I still think about you at least three-four times a day. It’s hard to get rid of something/someone that/who used to take up so much of your memory.

If it ever should be, I guess this is as good a time as any. I’m standing just in front of a bunch of changes to my life, so I might as well just get it all over with at once. But I still have that lingering feeling of sorrow, of what-if’s. Could I have done anything differently? I don’t really think so. Maybe I could have said some other things than what I’ve said, but then I would’ve lied to you. And I don’t recall ever lying to you, that’s always been one of my main priorities. Rather be blatantly honest and take what’s coming, than trying to wiggle out of questions.

I don’t really know what to call this. A personal blog. A diary. An online love letter, hoping for you to read it and find out there’s something good to be had if you want it. Maybe it’s just a stream of thoughts that I should really spare the entirety of cyberspace.


Baby, when I first saw you,
I knew you held the keys to my heart,
and in the setting sun we flew away
to a broken kind of paradise
where time would stand still.
You are the black sky
always running from the sun.

Paralyzed, I dug a well deep inside.
I kissed the tide, 
you held the moon
and carried the stars
like life was a memory
and death just a possibility.
You are the black sky
always running from the sun.
You’re always running from the sun.

(Chromatics: Birds of Paradise)


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