Putting my thoughts somewhere is easier than carrying them around, letting them haunt me throughout the day. Still, I type and erase over and over. If I keep it, it's mine and there is no way to show you how heavy it is. I fear the inevitable rejection of my pain, and so instead I hold it close and cradle it next to my heart. You said maybe one day, but I'm so certain that day will never come. Perhaps, that's a good thing... Or the right thing - those two are so rarely linked, though. My heart hurts, my head is cloudy, and I fight the constant urge to "make things right". I have to surrender to the reality that it can't be fixed. There is nothing left to fix - it's just rubble on the floor. So much I want to say, completely unable to say them.
I'm sorry, I was wrong.
I miss you.
Don't ever stop following your heart,
Kate
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