Moments in Rain

There is a moment. That one that makes your body freeze up, your heart beat slower, where all the sound in the world has been paused… There is a feeling that comes with that moment. And if it’s possible to describe that feeling, I would describe it as rain.

But that’s all vague and boring. That’s not what people want to read.

You know what I’m sick of? Just so damn tired and sick of? Tailoring my every move and my every word to fit in someone else’s mind. I’m tired of trying to be my mom, to resist my dad, to pretend that I’m not being lazy and selfish and stupid lately. I’m just so damn tired.

So why the hell should I type this for my non-existent readers? Why try to make it worth something to others when I really write it for myself? I’m a confused, tired, easily depressed person. I’m tired of pretending that I can just turn that around.

And I hate that now I am trying to get with people who don’t give a damn. Yeah, so what if they won’t hurt me? I know I’ll just have myself hurt me in the end. Why am I trying to look sexy (if that’s even possible) and worth their time? It all feels good in the moment to have someone’s arms wrapped around you, but when they move on and you move on you just are left with an old memory of something you don’t have.

But no, I don’t regret anything. I don’t what to take back that kiss, I don’t want to take back that safety I had in his eyes. I want to take back that first moment where I thought I was sort of awful for it. I want to take back looking at that guy in the halls and wanting to run into his arms. Silly me, that was just some moment.

This is just some moment, some rambling piece of crap. A moment where I want to be in a different person’s arms, a safe place to cry. Somewhere I can vent, I can yell, I can freaking laugh about NOTHING. I want that moment.

And here I go starting to cry. Last night I had someone tell me they wished they’d cry more often. I shook my head, wishing I wouldn’t cry so much. Songs can make me cry, movies can make me cry, people can, feelings can, moments can. I’m sick of wanting to cry, and I’m sick of having to. Because no one every really cries with you. And it makes you so fucking sad…

How come the moments you need are the ones out of reach?

(How come the people you need are the ones out of reach?)

You’re left to just freeze up, for your heart to beat slower, for your ears to shut down, and the tears feel like rain.

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About diagnosemylife

Okay, if I can't keep all this stuff about my life in my head, how do you expect me to shove it in this little box?

Posted on 09/06/2012, in This Whole "Life" Thing, Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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