Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Torn Up

I haven't updated in ages.

I know.

It was a busy December but I came out of it with nothing much to say. At least, nothing that's not already been said, out loud, a million times. If the words didn't make it online some other way then I'm sorry but you'll have to wait till I'm in the mood. Meanwhile I'll sit here enjoying the power I have over the possible non-dissemination of my December holidays.

I know.

What the heck right?

Well January went by in a blur too and my birthday? It was, hehehhh, well, if you weren't there then you weren't there.

So sue me for being in a bad mood. I’m a sucker for brooding.

But at the same time I’m a sucker for indecision, always trapped between two choices; or very well maybe eleven. Squeeze the pressure and I’ll most often choose the right one, provided “right” doesn’t become too subjective, but if you let me sit down and not choose, if it suits me I certainly will.

But why does “right” sometimes have to be so darn hard?

My aforementioned bad mood would be because of two people very dear to me that have left to go back to the states. One of them I am still getting used to not having around (Yes I still miss Sarah), and the other; hurts. Pressure and rationality causes us to make choices that we know we must make, no matter how painful it is, or how much you sacrifice in the process.

That’s what I have to keep reminding myself.

How do two people part, knowing that neither wants to, nor ultimately has to? Knowing that following this choice, both will walk away will a special affinity that may fade into either a beautiful friendship, or one which may never fade at all. And that while the years go by, each and either will move on, or linger behind in memories. A hopeful ‘nother cannot compete with a treasured memory. So the one who may linger behind will be trapped not in indecision, but in a cage delicately crafted by devotion.

But what of the alternative; to keep the beautiful treasure alive, even though it would be stretched thin by thousands of miles. The result is the same, but with a more immediate effect and utmost certainty. I cannot bear to bind her in a cage, and it matters not if she wants to be bound, for time will break down that cage and shatter the treasure, casting its shards aside like the dead leaves of a tree in a storm; lost and mostly irrecoverable.

So I choose to leave myself torn in the right decision, as does she, and I can only hope for the strength to pull us both through. I hope it is the right choice, to be trapped in no cage, and to hold onto the slowly fading radiance of what we had as it slips through my fingers.


A world of dew,
and within every dewdrop
a world of struggle

~Issa, 1763-1827~
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