Is it really about my mother and why I desire to be loved by women?

Wasn’t it enough love from her…?

I know her tone.

I know her words.

WHAT she will say…

I can preempt it.

So what is it about people thinking or trying to think they know you? Is it their way of reassuring themselves that they KNOW things—that they’re somewhat above everyone else’s ‘black and white checkered moves’.

I have this friend who’s been my friend for probably over a year and a half—

I can say, she knows me… however, there’s always going to be a part of me that no one else can reach.

This is the part that keeps me sane.

This is where I am untouchable.

I haven’t let anyone ‘TOO’ in—

Thinking that I have loved so much and given too much…

No.

It isn’t so.

Alex—

That girl…

The one who stole my heart.

She could be the one that would steal yours.

Oh that girl.

That mischievous beautiful girl…

*sigh*

In doing so much, looking back into it would be looking into an empty hourglass where time has expired.

The sand has stopped moving—all things completely still…

And yet my thoughts of her haven’t expired—

……

*written last august 13

note: as of today, i've completely moved on... i guess it really takes time. It did, it took a lotta time-- a lotta sacrifice... but they say it doesn't take much when you've found real love. so was she not real...? was she meant only for a greater plot... for a grander scheme? i can only wait this out-- hopefully not in f*ckin' vain.