Okay, here's an apology.
I admit a callousness at patching things. The silence between us persists, and I won't shift an iota of the blame on you. You have been the same, but I'm going rogue, to the point that you want me to speak but I won't. Things have devolved from the good 'ol days.
There are moments when thoughts of you occupy my head. Things have been better in the past, and to that past I keep falling back. Like the old friends that we were, rambling and mumbling through whatever quotidian occurrences played out. Impulse dominates, to tell me that I should work to make it the same. There's an overwhelming attachment, that convinces me to act on the impulse and make things right, but that conviction seldom results in action. Mostly, I get lost in thoughts, or feel overburdened by both, a responsibility, and a panic, to act, and let go.
Breaking a silence is not my forte - I'm well adjusted to keeping silences, to making things worse. To keep calm, it is easy to pretend that something (or lack of it) has always been there, just like this silence. I consider myself 'hardened' in a sense, though that sense may be completely wrong, or often so - this is one case.
But, then, in some way I have to say it, even though it might be anti-thesis of what I started with.
I admit a callousness at patching things. The silence between us persists, and I won't shift an iota of the blame on you. You have been the same, but I'm going rogue, to the point that you want me to speak but I won't. Things have devolved from the good 'ol days.
There are moments when thoughts of you occupy my head. Things have been better in the past, and to that past I keep falling back. Like the old friends that we were, rambling and mumbling through whatever quotidian occurrences played out. Impulse dominates, to tell me that I should work to make it the same. There's an overwhelming attachment, that convinces me to act on the impulse and make things right, but that conviction seldom results in action. Mostly, I get lost in thoughts, or feel overburdened by both, a responsibility, and a panic, to act, and let go.
Breaking a silence is not my forte - I'm well adjusted to keeping silences, to making things worse. To keep calm, it is easy to pretend that something (or lack of it) has always been there, just like this silence. I consider myself 'hardened' in a sense, though that sense may be completely wrong, or often so - this is one case.
But, then, in some way I have to say it, even though it might be anti-thesis of what I started with.
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