Saturday, September 04, 2004
Is it the stillness of the night that numbs my senses, its darkness that blinds me; or is my worry really painting a true picture? I fear that the friendship might be about to fade into mediocrity. Acquaintances who apparently never knew that they once shared so special a bond, so close a feeling that it could be almost called family.
I don't want to miss you too much, I don't want to think of you too much, I don't even want to hope that someday those days will resurface. But the more I repress, the more pain washes over me and all I can do is but to turn away and shut out even though I know I simply cannot. And there is no other avenue for conduit of this pain save for time, because tears do not flow any more.
I don't want to miss you too much, I don't want to think of you too much, I don't even want to hope that someday those days will resurface. But the more I repress, the more pain washes over me and all I can do is but to turn away and shut out even though I know I simply cannot. And there is no other avenue for conduit of this pain save for time, because tears do not flow any more.
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