August 23, 2011

• Better before

  It was better before I met you.
  Not because you did anything to drastically shake up my life.
  But rather because it kept you at a distance.
  You weren’t real.

  As great as it was to meet you, it now creates a dilemma.
  I can’t pretend that you are just a figment of my imagination.
  It gives substance to my perception of you.
  As your existence becomes more real, the hopeless romantic in me gains strength.

  And we can’t have that.

  I pride myself on my ability to remain detached.
  But even I have moments of weakness.
  I hate it when these typically fleeting moments become prolonged – self-sustaining.
  It makes them exponentially harder to exterminate.

  I will find a way to purge this.
  I have to.
  Because there is no happily ever after.
  I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago.
  Even though I didn't want to.

  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.
  Maybe I’ll get it carved on my headstone.

  Being a grown up sucks.
  It’s where dreams go to die.

  • 1:53 pm
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