She wished the thoughts would just stay inside her head without sneaking down her face. It wasn't regret, like he might have thought. It was more like a pause in the acceleration of growth, brought on by a quiet night without distractions. Time, to feel a heart half healed and half broken, wondering which was the easier way out, forward or back... when no light appeared in either direction.
She should have known it would come to this. That all the preparation in the world could not insulate her from pain. Tears, it turns out are a poor defence. In the moment, she felt such clarity as to why we want to place the blame ~ It is a challenge to bare your own sins. They are lonely and filled with shame. The heart longs for so many different things which it can't quite reconcile. It wants love and intimacy and longevity and adventure and the casual affair, it is afraid and trusting and terrified all at the same time.
I do not understand this thing called living. Why do we do it? Why do we come here to this dark, dense planet? Is the point to break through, to break up, to break down? I do not know. I do not know. I do not know.
