I hit send. And the moment I did. I regretted it. But now it was his. The insecurities and anxieties I carried deep within they were his. And what became of us was entirely up to him. And though deep down inside my intuition is writing an ending. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to feel it. Because I did it again. I set myself up to get hurt again. But what I’d give for him to say. “Your wrong. You’re the one for me.”
But it’s so true, what they say, at this age. The worst thing you can do is fall for someone harder than they do for you.

I worry about you. Do you know that? I’m no longer tied to you. My soul is no longer lingering next to yours. My heart has found another place. My mind has finally found sense. But I still worry about you. Like its my responsibility that you turn out okay. I have to hit the breaks for you when you’re going full speed. I have to tie the rope to your ever drifting boat. I have to clear the path and mark the steps. Just so you’ll get there in one piece.
You are so strong willed. And you do things with so much intensity you forget why your doing them in the first place. You’re always running. You’re never still. You thread fine lines. And you free fall constantly. As if the next best thing will come. Something to satisfy that insatiable desire of yours that never dries from its source.
I worry about you. Do you know that? I owe that to the universe. To scuttle you out of your own pent up anxieties and insecurities. To pull you from the superficiality you surround yourself with. Because I know you. The real you. The one who has the potential to be anything you’ve ever possibly dreamed of. Your the quintessential portrayal of someone who has still to find his way and niche in life. So yes. I worry about you. Do you know that?

Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing the monkey bars. You have let go at some point so you can move forward…

It was a long and cold lazy afternoon. I found myself immersed in conversation with my cousin. We were sitting in the living room across from each other when he looked up from his phone and simply asked: “How do you decide to give up on someone? How do you know its time to let go?”

I sipped my chamomile tea and sighed. “I don’t think you give up on the actual person. I think we give up on the circumstance. Because if you love someone, you love them unconditionally. But we’re only human. I guess we just fail when our faith gets tested.”
We fall in love with love at a very young age. We live content with hand picked daisies and heart shaped letters. We welcome butterflies, dreams, and ideals. We paint castles and ever-afters. We allow our hands to be held, our deepest secrets to be known, and we share our laughter and our sorrows. We open up the way a flower blooms in spring. We find someone to love, to share, to miss, to be with. And happiness overflows our lives.
But then the storms come. And in its path weakens our foundations, erases the memories, and breaks all faith and hope. And we are left with pieces of what once was. So we give up. We stop clearing the debris and create more instead.

Now the question is do we grow weary to the point where our limits are surpassed by choice? I think it’s both a conscious and unconscious choice. We sometimes want to make things work so bad it hurts. But you don’t put up with so much because you are blind to it. It’s just sometimes you love someone that much. That purely.

You’ll never leave where you are until you’ve decided where you’d rather be. And sometimes that choice is with out them. To be with out her or him. Because all you really want in life is to be happy and some how you’re mind is convinced your happiness does not lie there anymore.

So how to time it and bow out gracefully? You can’t. There’s no magic equation or solution to the issue. You just have to do it to save what is left of your heart. Giving up doesn’t mean that you weren’t strong enough. It just means you realized you don’t deserve the pain anymore. And even if your heart breaks to pieces you just have to move on. If someone isn’t there for you, you have no choice but to let them go.

So yes, it happens. We allow the rain to fall enough, we let it pour right over our heads instead of ducking for cover. We open up the door to defeat and to doubts, we allow negativity to consume us. Till one day you realize you just can’t take it anymore and that something has to give. And you
walk away because that’s the cowardly thing to do. And let’s face it in trial most of us are cowards.

But love doesn’t end because you choose to walk away. Its threads linger in our intertwined stories. You are either the victim left in the middle of the rubble or you are the victim walking away from the crash site. Regardless both are wounded, both are hurting.

One thing remains the truth sometimes it takes a fall to know where we stand. And regardless of how black and blue you are left the truth is love will never give up on you. No matter how much you give up on it. Like the tide coming and going, it will grace your shore again.

Alice lost her way following a rabbit with a clock. She changed when she took a bottle labeled “Drink me” and a cake labeled “eat me”. And she almost drowned in a sea of tears. So how do you fall deep into a rabbit hole and come out the other end unchanged? You can’t.

She fell deep in love for a boy that never loved her back. He broke her heart, tore it out of her chest till there was no breath inside of her. And into a world of nonsense she fell in. Half asleep, unable to wake up.

He hurt her so bad; she didn’t know where to begin to pick up the pieces of her life. During the day it was very easy to be brave. But when night fell and the truth crept up in between dreams there was no escaping it.

You see even if we lie to ourselves during the day. The body is compelled to speak the truth at night. Maybe it’s because we talk so much during the day we can’t hear what the heart is saying. And if you don’t pay attention, then it talks to you through a dream, or a memory. And a dream is a poem the body writes. Therefore her nights were long, and her dreams were endless.

Alice in a world turned upside down. A woman alone, left to fend for herself, that’s what she was. So she dreamt and dream. Put her hands to her face. She had a lot of tears to spend.

It took everything she had to not let herself fall apart. She sighed, deeply but she understood then and there that it was time to reconcile with the idea that he was never meant for her. So she looked up at the starry night. Her eyes were filled with tears. The wind blew by, whispering things she didn’t need to know, as a tear fell down, as she let go.

The trouble with reaching her closure was that she still remained broken. Her faith in love, her hope of the future, her confidence in another was shattered and all her feelings remained in a world of chaos. She felt he had taken her ability to love. Because of a disastrous unraveling her heart grew cold. And the biggest fear in being untouchable wasn’t the fear of love itself but of never being able to be moved again.

For a long time she felt like a wish lost within the stars. Not certain of where she was going or how she’d ever get there. But she’d do anything to reach the surface, the real world, to burst through the magic mirror, away from Wonderland where logic and reason do not exist.

Battled scarred she works very hard to get back to who she used to be. With time the days became weeks, and the weeks months and the heart that once was lost began to beat again. She has yet to figure out what the future holds but for now she paints the roses red. And can’t help but simply wonder if Life itself is just a dream…

The Barista handed me my coffee. I said a polite thank you and spun around. To find him standing right in front of me. My eyes narrowed. I knew that face. That 5 o’clock shadow. And that grin. And those eyes. Those devilish, wild eyes of his.
We locked eyes and he smiled. I took a breath and braced myself.
“Hey there Kid. How are you?” - and before I could respond he began to give me a hug. And his scruff brushed my cheeck. Oh how I was crazy about that scruff.
“Hey. Great! And you?”
He stopped embracing me only to take me by both arms and look at me from head to toe.
“It’s so good to see you”
What followed was a polite conversation about the weather and the status of our life. We updated each other like we were reading the social events section of a newspaper. I said I had to go and made a gesture for the door. He took my hand. And he held it. As if he didn’t want me to go. I smiled and said I’ll be seeing you. Or something like that. And I walked away. Because that was our story. Walking away. And because gosh I hated it when he called me Kid…