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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1330125-Eyes
by Ryne
Rated: 18+ · Monologue · Personal · #1330125
I don't always write happy things about love, but that's life.
Our eyes were all the same.  We all wanted something we couldn't have.  We all loved someone but they didn't love us in return.  Whether that person had claimed love and found someone new, we loved them but could never have them for they were never ours to have, or simply because they were foolish and stupid.  Blind to that which was obvious to the world.  We all looked the same.  We were all drinking for the same reason.  To try and bury the feeling of loss.  It worked, for moments.  At least that is what we wanted to think, even pretend.  But at that moment it was the same for all of us.  We realized we would never have them and that thought itself brought us lower than we could imagine.

We'll never admit it.  Pretending is something we have all learned how to do.  I wanted to drink myself into oblivion.  I didn't.  Something stopped me, so instead, I became the very thing I tried to escape.  A facade.  I brought about my own downfall though.  I built myself up, truly thought that I knew the truth.  Thought that I could do the impossible.  Save someone and be with them.  I ended up failing at both.

I tried to tell myself I was ready to let go, so many times I tried.  It was a lie every time.  I never told you exactly how I felt.  I never truly acted how I felt.  I never did the things that I was so afraid to do.  Maybe a mistake.  Maybe a natural instinct to not care too much, a restriction I placed on myself to make the end easier.  I gave myself hope, every conversation reassured me that I knew what you wanted and needed.  Once again I told everyone that they were wrong and that I knew what was real and honest.  They'll tell me it was a learning experience, that in the end I did help you.  Fuck them.  I learned some things.  I broke all of the rules, went against damn near all of my moral values, and now I am where I am.  Alone.

You'll never read this.  You're doing the very thing I will try to do.  Erase.  Erase the feelings.  Erase the memories.  In the end I didn't bring you happiness, I brought you misery.  I gave you everything that you ever wanted and it was too much.  I don't have the will to write anymore currently.  What a shitty ending.
© Copyright 2007 Ryne (ryne219 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1330125-Eyes