Searching through my work emails I found some that J and I exchanged a
long time ago. The last one was the image of a little dog. She used to
do that when she wanted to express cuteness. I was determined. Took a
deep breath. I selected all of them and deleted them. Then emptied my
"Deleted" folder on Outlook.
My heart felt something. That familiar bloody pain when your rip things apart from it. Fog on my mind. Feeling upset. Sweat. A slight darkness on my eyes. This is how it goes.
I act as a determined person but I am not. I'm wondering whether I'm doing all these to punish me in some way. Or is it that my logic is coming first? I'm not afraid to hurt myself. The problem is that it hurts a lot.
I considered this blog as a message in a bottle. Always. Only a few people know that it exists and thank god most of them have forgotten about it. Now I need to take a decision to block it from everyone so that she never sees it. And there's where paranoia comes. You know, a small part of me wishes that I could be able to give her these thoughts. It's that part of me that is still in love. The part that I need to kill and then stand above it and wipe away its tears. This is the paradox. The part of me that deletes emails and the other one that secretly hopes to a change of the tide. I don't know how one can raise a blade towards a part of oneself and destroy it.
Ah. Decision. New blog.
My heart felt something. That familiar bloody pain when your rip things apart from it. Fog on my mind. Feeling upset. Sweat. A slight darkness on my eyes. This is how it goes.
I act as a determined person but I am not. I'm wondering whether I'm doing all these to punish me in some way. Or is it that my logic is coming first? I'm not afraid to hurt myself. The problem is that it hurts a lot.
I considered this blog as a message in a bottle. Always. Only a few people know that it exists and thank god most of them have forgotten about it. Now I need to take a decision to block it from everyone so that she never sees it. And there's where paranoia comes. You know, a small part of me wishes that I could be able to give her these thoughts. It's that part of me that is still in love. The part that I need to kill and then stand above it and wipe away its tears. This is the paradox. The part of me that deletes emails and the other one that secretly hopes to a change of the tide. I don't know how one can raise a blade towards a part of oneself and destroy it.
Ah. Decision. New blog.
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