My intentions were only good.
All I wanted was to not be a burden,
and to be a source of joy and happiness.
I don't know what I did,
and from time to time I think I should ask forgiveness...
forgiveness for I know not what, even... that's what you mean to me and that's devotion.
But it wouldn't do anything.
Because again and again I'd know the answer before the question left my lips.
I'm often cursed like that. It takes the spontaneity out of a lot of moments that could be enjoyed a lot more otherwise.
I tried to fly, fly away but your lead manacles held me to the ground.
I tried to smile and laugh, but you kept inserting needles into my back and made me wince and grimace instead.
Sometimes I wonder if you gave me a fair chance at all.
I should have known things would be bad from the first hug,
and a part of me did... but just didn't want to admit it.
How could I admit it?
Until then you were the most warm, caring, wonderful thing I'd encountered.
And then it fell apart right in front of me, and my hands were bound and I could not keep it from happening.
I could not keep it from crashing down and I could not keep it from turning to disaster.
And I tried.
If nothing else,
I fucking TRIED.
But you can only chip away at a wall of ice for so long before your hands get numb and you drop your fucking pickaxe with fumbling fingers.
And you, my dear,
were the biggest fucking wall of ice I've ever seen in my life.
And I was working at you with a damned toothpick.
Yeah, you do the math. That's destined to fail, in my mind.
And you know,
if you're not going to call me anymore,
and you're not going to write me anymore,
and if you're not going to have anything to do with me...
well fuck yes... it sure as hell IS a damned shame,
but I'll just have to go on, now won't I?
The world isn't going to stop for you or for me
so I've got to keep going on
to find something that WILL stop it.
Back.