lauraldanne’s blabbernothings

How can you walk away just like that?

How can you bear the thought of leaving behind the one thing that made you happy for almost a decade?

How can you muster losing something and act like it didn’t mean anything?

Don’t you care at all?

Did it not mean anything to you?

Is it really as easy as a snap of a finger?

Is this what you really wanted from the beginning?

Were you no longer happy with what you had?

Is it really that easy to turn your back on something so deep, so pure, so true?

What happened to waiting and getting by easily?

What happened to making a promise and then end up breaking it anyway?

Well, screw you!

But wasn’t it just a trial?

Maybe it was at that point, but it was probably evident that in the long run, the inevitable would occur. It’ll be the same heart-wrenching ending.

So nobody was supposed to know. Nobody needed to know. Yes, just so we could save face and push everything under the covers and deny it actually did happen. It was working. Nobody asked and nobody told. But as days went by, the lies accumulated.

I’m tired. I’m tired of exerting all my effort in something I don’t get anything back from. It’s as if I’ve been doing all the friggin work for the longest time.

I’m tired of hoping. And making endless dreams. And reciting unanswered prayers. And yearning for a tomorrow that may never come.

I’m tired of just smiling. And pretending that everything is just dandy.

I’ve held on for as long as I could. I refused to let go. I hung on to the end of the rope for what seemed like an eternity.

We’ve talked about this. We’ve discussed some of the possibilities. We’ll be fine.

I didn’t know who could listen. I was just clueless. And I was afraid of what they might say.

Then one day, someone asked, and what I’ve been feeling for the past few months came out like an avalanche. Putting it out in the open just made me realize what I should have probably done from the beginning. You know, just to save me from being so over stressed-out from everything else.

And I didn’t cry. Maybe I was afraid that if I started sniffling, I would make a complete fool of myself, blowing out snot in between sobs and spattering out words of hurt and dread and confusion. Maybe I’ve cried too much already in the past. Maybe my tear ducts are dried out. Maybe it really hasn’t sunken it yet. Maybe I’m just subconsciously mentally preparing myself for a tear-fest evening.

I feel like I owe people an explanation. I really don’t. I just don’t want people to draw their own conclusions without knowing the whole story. If you don’t know squat, just shut your piehole and don’t make up stories. Asking me will actually do you no harm.

As much as I feel like I am pretty open about things, there are certain people I choose to pour it all out to. There are those chosen few that can get private thoughts out of me without even trying. And they haven’t heard from me in a while. I have kept silent for the longest time, too. And I am certain that they do not blame me.