Found some inner peace at the graveyard during a visit to my grandpa. Miss him everyday. His jokes, wisdom, quotes. Strange you feel connected with somebody undergrounds. Find peace at a graveyard. The serenity, silence and the hurt, pain and sadness from other visitors makes you feel connected, with life and death.
It’s sunny outside, no clouds, a bright blue sky. But I’m in the shadow. My own shadow. There’s a grey cloud surrounding me. It’s the past, that hunts me, keeps hunting me and tackles me. Every step I take, my shadow adds a footprint a little before my own.
My sight isn’t bright. Therefore I make the wrong decisions. I need time. On my own. To get rid of the past. I didn’t accept a lot of things that happened last year. Can’t get you out of my mind, all of a sudden. 8 Months after his actual dead, it hits me now.
Although my shadow hunts me, I feel lonelier then ever before. No matter how much my friends try, I have to do this on my own. I am strong, I’ve shown that. I can handle this. I will come back. But not today. Not now. Today I try to hide. For my shadow.
Never date a writer because she’ll fictionalize everything. She’ll write about things you have done to her, or things you never did for her. She’ll write about how you never bought her flowers. Not once. She’ll say in well-constructed prose how the whole time you were together, she never came home from a long week to see a vase full of roses, or daises, or anything. (Read more)
This story is incredibly sad because of how true it is. It’s all about perspective I guess and the feelings you write with and sometimes that makes the stories you write more or less exaggerated than what actually happened.
If this is how you feel, how you react and this is all you try, we’re done. If I meant something to you, you should have tried harder, show me you do care. I don’t see it anymore. I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want to need you anymore. So I keep my distance, try to make new rules for my game. You definitly lost. I’m your biggest loss, you’ll see. Time will tell.
We’ve been to Paris twice. We were the love in Paris twice. But I will not be your love in Paris again. I won’t come with you to Paris with your new love. I wanted to go to Paris out of our love. Now there’s no love. And no Paris.