12 String Dreams Journal
Yesterday a call from the past flashed across my screen.
Words scattered and worn resembled sentences. Feelings cold
and distant resembled the truth. It rides quietly in the
back of my mind, only showing itself when allowed. I almost
forgot how hard I tried to forget. I question my reasons
now. Now, almost six years later I'm questioning my
I knew what had to happen for the sanity of everyone
involved, and happen it did. Like an explosion or an
earthquake. The total loss of control followed by and eerie
silence. A tremor or two to follow, but nothing
I remember the look in her eyes, I just can't remember what
it meant. She saw the look in my eyes but only at a glance.
The hardest thing for me to believe is that it was hard for
her to. Guess I just don't see how it could have been since
she took the "easy" way out.
She left with her life and mine to. She went back to a life
she missed so dearly and left me with the remnants of a
life that I grew to hate.
I didn't now the meaning of hatred till I sat alone in that
cold little apartment. Hatred was just a word and had no
emotions attached to it. Oddly enough, getting though that
also taught me the meaning of love. I've never denied
loving her. Even when the feelings of hatred were thier
strongest, I still loved her. I hated the things she did
and I hated the way she did them, but her I always loved.