-Full Version:
If you've read my other blogs, you know that I'm all filled with poetry and idealism. I am that girl who used to sit behind you in homeroom reading a Sweet Valley High romance and doodling little hearts and flowers all over her notebook.
Well...at one point of my life I was.
Now, Anne Rice has replaced Judy Blume. Razorblades and devil's horns have replaced the hearts and flowers. Much of the imagery I surround myself with is dark and ominous and sensual. I'm that little girl all grown up.
I've been wanted. I've been needed. I think I may even have been loved once or twice...not that it did me any good. I've been had. I've been cast aside. I've been battered and broken and lifted to stand on my own two feet.
Now, I know what I want.
But, I'm also grown up enough to see reality through all of that imagery.
No matter how long I wait..no matter how patient and pliant and caring I am, I may never have it. It's taken a lot for me to learn to accept that...and to find a way to maybe move on.
Every journey begins with that first step, right? And that's so true. Standing in one place never got anyone anywhere, unless they were standing on an escalator...in which case, they have to take a step sooner or later anyway. So, why wait?
My heart is no longer mine. It hasn't been mine for a while now. He holds it in his hand. And all he does is just stand there and stare at it, not knowing what to do with it, like a man who's been handed a subway token when he's already boarded the train. It's going to waste.
I can't let that happen. I can't let him stand there forever holding it as the train roars through the tunnel. But I also can't take it back from him. It belongs to him now. If I tried to take it back, that would be stealing.
Eh. I'll just have to learn to deal with it, I guess.
[breathes deeply and starts walking]
Yeah. That first step was the hardest.
-Condensed Version [for Masokyst]:
See you in a few weeks.
If you want to, sir.
Here's the ever present kitty...just for you. =]
