When it comes right down to it, could it ever have gone any other way? The more I break this down the clearer it becomes that I've been so silly to be shocked. I understand the aches and the constant draining and even the longing. Everything is as it should be, the regrets and the wishful thinking, but the shock is what makes it hard to breathe, what forces my eyes to close and my mind to falter. My own pits to start my own collection.
This isn't the first time and everything now is just too close to everything then to be a mere coincidence. Would things continue in this circular motion and again in a few years we'd be right back where we started? Why would I possibly think there'd only be one mountain to climb and once we made it over it would be nothing but valleys and lake-side views until death?
Why is it so hard not to have expectations, even when you know how hard you should be knowing better? Even when the expectations aren't the result of a situation you've created for another, but based on words they've formed all on their own. It's a matter of follow-through, of honesty. How can you say you're all out of try when your try and I have never met before? It's not so complicated, it's not so far fetched.
I want to come here daily and take even a few moments to gather my thoughts. They are constantly altering and adjusting their course like driftwood in a vast sea and that's where you've left me and so I do what I must not to go under. For that there must be some reason, something that's tethered to my heart pulling me along in all directions except safely ashore. Tomorrow's a new day for the rain or the sun and I'm no weatherman and I carry no maps. I have no internal compass, I go with the currents and I leave it to them to bring me where I need to be.
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