I Release You

There comes a time when you have spent so much time outside of yourself that you forget who you are. This isn’t my case. I know who I am. What I don’t know is who made me human. Experience has made me more of a guarded fool than a cynical bastard. This gives way to a scenario where the words leave my mouth faster than my brain can process. Speaking to the first woman I ever truly loved made me stumble upon a truth buried deep within me: I hadn’t let her go. I still wasn’t over her.

Disgust assaulted me in waves. I thought this was taken care of.

The clock struck 1 in the morning as another sleepless night loomed in the horizon. My bed couldn’t soothe my tension so I walked aimlessly around my room. Soft creaks from the wooden floor dispersed the thick silence. My mind was going through my memories fast. I had already disposed of all the belongings she had left behind. I had tried to get her back. I had grieved what could have been. It made no sense.

The wind made its impatience known as it rattled the windows of the manor. This was ridiculous. I had an early meeting in the morning. I couldn’t waste my night on this.

I sat down on my desk. Found a piece of paper and a pen then I proceeded to write.

Dearest,

You were my sun. I loved you for who you were and not who they wanted to be. You wanted a cheating bastard over someone who could’ve made you truly happy. To each its own. I thank you for what you did for me. One day I will forgive your treacherous heart. As of today, I forget you.

Sincerely,

C.D.P.

There, in the same place I had regained my humanity, I remembered her. And then she was gone.

Flowers and Love

I honestly forgot I had this. It's been a while but circumstance brings me here one more time. Along with a need for an outlet. Though I know for a fact that I do not have a fan base like my good friend Michelangelo does, even if he is a horrendous blogger nowadays.

My last entry was rather depressive. It's a bit idiotic to say that I wasn't in such a good shape at that time. Luckily for me, seasons change. Old loves are reborn and new people come into my life.

I was told that journals are good for finding your voice... which could be true if I wasn't utterly distracted by the beauty behind the entire Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. My iTunes, my choice. I think it just fits with my idea of a lazy Sunday afternoon, even if it has been lazy not by choice. I don't like wasting days doing nothing but lounging, because as much as you want to make this seem otherwise, it really is a complete and utter waste of time to do nothing. Same goes for instant gratification. All you could ever end up with is nothing. It comes and goes as quickly as a whisper.

Tending to my garden the other day I couldn't help but wonder, when did we [humanity] turn into parasites? We walk around, looking for the first flower that catches our fancy. We want to satisfy our 'fix' within the first person that makes us feel physiologically challenged. We clamp unto it, feed like there's no tomorrow then separate and dance our way into another scenario of equally minded imbeciles.

Our world, our lives, our loves all share one common ingredient: they're all shallow. We expect it all to magically turn into a fairy tale as if wishing it would be enough. Yet we sleep around, betray, cheat, lie and generally use up the person until nothing is left. The same nothingness you were running away from.

We don't honor love. We don't take care of others so by default we slaughter our hearts. We don't tend to love. We cease to believe it even exists so our guilt doesn't taint the already soiled experiences that go hand in hand with promiscuity. A bit redundant, isn't it?

I am no saint. I never have been. I admit that more than once I've been tempted to fall into that particular abyss with shiny neon lights and watermelon flavored condoms. It's not worth it.

Never would I change the thrill and the simplest joy that fills my heart when my little bud blossoms into a beautiful flower after I've devoted myself to it's care. Knowing well enough that it's not forever makes it even more worth while.

And all because of a glossy lipstick...

Unfamiliar to many apparently, the code is my way of life. I suppose it does sound surprising to some people but I did attend the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst. I served my rightful time and learned quite a few things. In them, I learned honor and respect. I'm also well aware that today's youth is being raised in a world filled with over the top liberties, they fail to grasp the concept of deference as it seems they were raised in the wild by a pack of wolves. I have managed to sail my way through all kinds of situations, people and scenarios; more often than not I am succesful.

But there's no need for me to rant and mention no names. Or maybe there is. Maybe I'm being ridiculous and childish by mentioning them both. Him, for ignoring the fact that you have to maintain some sort of decent distance with the woman that, you are consciously aware, is being courted by another man. Her, for provoking a needless and rather dangerous encounter between two men, one who is at a clear disadvantange. Though I suppose that it IS normal after all, most people love to ruffle the feathers of the quiet hawk, waiting to see if he'll react and finally poke their eye out as they have been so anxiously waiting for.

We all know that you, noiseless watchers of our little drama, are waiting for the big fight. Why wouldn't you? Two grown men after the same awe-inspiring woman. Only one gets to keep her. As the old saying goes "let the best man win" and we all know who the better man is.

Alas, it is partly not his fault. I suppose we'll label him as an unfortunate victim of circumstance. I'm not as mad at him as I am at her. It is her I like. It is she the object of my affection. It is she who looked positively ravishing with her new look and tempted me to take her right then and there. I suppose it is my fault for not being fast enough or with a quick tongue to sample her glossy lips. Yes, I am guilty of being slow in that sense. I can't express myself as eloquently as I would've liked. I would've loved to take him away and be with her alone. We'll call it my payment for taking a trip on a whim to another continent to see her. I will admit I am very sorry I couldn't stay longer with her, whisper to her ear how splendid she looked and steal a kiss or two.

Though I cannot let her go unpunished. It is not in my nature. We'll blame my anger. And my pride.