I'm a Southern Belle...redefined. I am a dreamer. As a child I talked to the Man in the Moon. It was an outlet for my thoughts, poems, and lyrics. You are now my Man in the Moon.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
I don't like feeling weary. I wish I could fix me at times. I don't like it when I get this way and I'm helpless to the pain I feel. I do such a great job at convincing myself that I'm happy...its odd that I can't pin point the pain. I've recognized some triggers. I meet someone. They talk to me and get to know me. Then they proposition me. I make a stand that I am a Southern Belle. They go away. It hurts. It cuts deeply. It makes me feel that loneliness is evident unless I sacrifice my morals. I can feel intimacy if I do that right? Oh but who will be there when you walk away then? I'm still left with me. Either way its painful. I think its extremely wrong to lead a woman to believe you could love her with no intention of actually loving her. That pain scars. It hardens the heart. I have to quickly figure out how to not allow this to happen. I think that people settle because the pain is overwhelming. People get tired of searching for that one feeling and they give up. I've settled before so I wont make that mistake again. Either way its a life of pain. I'd rather feel temporary moments of passion and the possibility of love than a lifetime of regret and longing. I feel like everyone who has ever hurt me should be held accountable. Then I consider that I've hurt people so maybe this is our accountability. I can't shake it this time. I stood in the cold rain last night wearing just my gown. I cried and let it wash down my face. No one knew I was standing there in the dark. People were home sleeping in their beds or out with friends. I was standing there praying the pain would wash away with the tears. I gripped the ground beneath me begging for mercy. Every ounce of insanity in me surfaced last night. I watched it emerge and perform for me. I felt like I was alone in a theater watching. It danced and moved with such tragic emotion that I was speechless. My heart felt so empty I considered it non-existent. I am the broken one. I came inside and showered. I felt weak to even stand. I climbed in bed and slept. I woke up put my dress on and curled my hair. I put on my pearl studs and painted my face. Teal is such a pretty color on me. I smiled for my sons and I will continue to do just that. The pain is still there but she retreated back inside the tomb where my heart once called home. When she'll make her next debut I don't know but I will always be the only person sitting in the audience watching on.