When it rains the whole world feels gloomy. And I think too much. I am contemplating everything, but mainly my own potential.
I am so busy writing to you, writing to people faraway, people across the road, people at work. I write to you all but never to me. I invest my hours in you, in them, in that. But your worlds will all turn without me.
I miss someone so dearly. Everything reminds me of them. Songs, places, even some of the things I say. My memories are tainted with their fluorescent glow and everything now seems so grey. I'm not convincing myself that it was more than it was. I lose and gain people so often. But I never wanted to lose this one, that is the truth. And at some point I maybe could have kept them.
And I'm tired of goodbyes. Tired of needing people to show that they miss me. If you don't miss me, I understand. You don't have to put a conscious effort into it. Right now, I wouldn't miss me either. So when you go away, when you went away, I'll just miss you. Don't miss me. Just come home one day.
So I have to start somewhere. I think it has to start with me. And then the others will follow, more vibrant and beautiful, but they will walk the path that I blazed for them. If I cannot be beautiful, I will create beautiful things.
For you. The people I always thought would one day be second to someone else, but now I know that can never be. He will only ever be second to you.
Maybe you'll tear your hair out that I'm not saying everything in black and white, but today is grey, grey, grey. And you don't have to know what it means, I only have to say it. That's the point, don't you get it? It's not for you, for them, for that. It's for me.
I send this babble of thoughts out into the world inside my computer, but it can only drift so far so long as it is irrevocably tied to me. Like floating notelets.