This sucks.
Every time I leave my mind free, it goes back to you. If I don't keep it distracted, it always comes back to you.
That's why I have to do this. Reading is my safe haven. It always has been.
When I read, I enter a different world. A world of my own. A world where I'm happy. Even the things that hurt me in here stay here & end with each book. They don't haunt me.
They take me to a world where I can disconnect to, where I can run away to. A place where I don't have to remember you. A world where I don't have to miss you. A world without you.
But the fact remains that this recluse of mine is temporary. You're still out there. Somewhere far beyond my reach.
You're there...and I don't know if I'm happy or sad about that. Happy that you were not a figment of my imagination. Happy, for our memories, our moments, for us. But sad for it too. Sad that I'll never have them again. Sad that it still hurts. Sad that you were all too real.
Tell me. Am I being pitiful right now? Will you come to comfort me? Or have I really pushed you too far away? Will you ever come back? Not just in my dreams or thoughts, but to my arms, to my life?
Does it hurt you as much as it hurts me? Are you also searching for havens to immerse yourself in? To forget yourself in? To forget me?
Or am I the only one? Have you already forgotten? Do I want you to forget? Do I not?
Sigh.
YOU ARE READING
Scribbled
Non-FictionMy inner thoughts, musings, unsent messages, loved quotes and random babbles. While some of these are original, some I picked up off articles, books or the internet. Feel free to share your thoughts and opinions.
