Ow
Little dazed.
Seems it isn't/wasn't to be. Tried to get it to work but...
Wondering if if there was anything else to try. Anything we should have tried.
So perfect in virtually every way, a crying shame.
You can't make someone feel a certain way, can you?
Reeling over the keyboard with salty cheeks and tripping over re-typed and blurry words, I am not sure I will ever be much wiser.
If it has to be, surely it must be for the best, yes?
Drifted apart, not enough of a spark, what sort of chemistry is this anyway? Certainly none that I ever studied at school. Perhaps violent reactions are the best, volitile mixing producing pyrotechnics and explosions rather than affinitys that simply fizzle out. Atleast you know then.
20 minutes break for tea. Vital life-balm. Looking at what I have written, I realise it will make interesting reading later. Though, I will probably be embarassed of my emotions and delete it.
Saw it coming? Probably. The shadow of the end had been there for a while, but denial and hopes' colours are stronger. The 'next weekend' was always going to be the one that worked. Trouble is, it rarely was. Sometimes, though. Last night for instance. But not enough.
Haven't known anything else for such a long time (4 1/2 years) but maybe it just seems that way. So many differences, so much change. The next few weeks will be telling.
I dropped her off at the station this afternoon. Wrenched. 'For the best' I guess, but I'm feeling sick now. My intention had been to come home and get some work done, no chance of that now, it will have to wait till tomorrow.
Anna
Funny how keeping a diary has forced me to wear my heart on my sleeve more. A few months ago opening myself up would have been unthinkable. Now it almost seems thereaputic.
Seems it isn't/wasn't to be. Tried to get it to work but...
Wondering if if there was anything else to try. Anything we should have tried.
So perfect in virtually every way, a crying shame.
You can't make someone feel a certain way, can you?
Reeling over the keyboard with salty cheeks and tripping over re-typed and blurry words, I am not sure I will ever be much wiser.
If it has to be, surely it must be for the best, yes?
Drifted apart, not enough of a spark, what sort of chemistry is this anyway? Certainly none that I ever studied at school. Perhaps violent reactions are the best, volitile mixing producing pyrotechnics and explosions rather than affinitys that simply fizzle out. Atleast you know then.
20 minutes break for tea. Vital life-balm. Looking at what I have written, I realise it will make interesting reading later. Though, I will probably be embarassed of my emotions and delete it.
Saw it coming? Probably. The shadow of the end had been there for a while, but denial and hopes' colours are stronger. The 'next weekend' was always going to be the one that worked. Trouble is, it rarely was. Sometimes, though. Last night for instance. But not enough.
Haven't known anything else for such a long time (4 1/2 years) but maybe it just seems that way. So many differences, so much change. The next few weeks will be telling.
I dropped her off at the station this afternoon. Wrenched. 'For the best' I guess, but I'm feeling sick now. My intention had been to come home and get some work done, no chance of that now, it will have to wait till tomorrow.
Anna
Funny how keeping a diary has forced me to wear my heart on my sleeve more. A few months ago opening myself up would have been unthinkable. Now it almost seems thereaputic.
posted by > Ed at
8:29 pm
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