I'm speaking of what will happen after I give those tickets away.
There's a part of me that is keeping hope all squeezed up in a tight fist, and there is also another part, that is telling me to open my hands. And to let go.
Just in case.
The worst happens.
...The Blower's Daughter by Damien Rice is playing right now, and I'm in my office, taking a break from cleaning the bathrooms.
It's hard thinking of what to say in this post.
Just that I needed to.. write, and.. let myself be reminded and prepared against... the worst.
I still remember our last conversation. The hostility in her voice. Those dead eyes I saw in her the last time she was over, carried itself over and shook me as I struggled to find courage enough to say what needed to be said.
And, as you know Gina, I failed.
(sighs) I said I wasn't going to be writing about you anymore, but this one hit me hard. And this song that's playing right now, isn't helping matters.
Taking off my headphones.. looking out the office window and hearing the traffic go by.
I don't know what needs to be said here.
I have to prepare myself. Clearly, I have feelings for someone, for you, and you don't share them. And I don't know if you can reawaken them either. That's where my hope is placed. That maybe, there is still that chance of a spark that hasn't completely extinguished, that I can bring back to life.
Of course there is a chance of that. There always is a chance. Even if they are small, the possibility still exists, no matter how immeasurable the odds are.
I know for sure, that I will have to walk away once I give those tickets, and not look back. I can't keep hoping like this. Dreaming. Wishing. Praying.
Sometimes even, scheming.
So, I have to be prepared. That when I give you those tickets Gina, that you will be upset. That you will.. react strongly, and.. I don't know what. As imaginative as I can be, I can't... picture the worst that might happen.
But I will prepare myself as best as I can.
...I've been through much worse in life, and it's not.. any kind of fear that is motivating me to write all this.
It's.. sadness.. I guess. I know I can move on, I know I will be moving on, I know I can handle you not speaking to me again, or not consider giving me a second chance to make things right.
But.. I'm still going to keep my hand closed, and stop hope from escaping. At least until the end of September, when I plan on making my blog private again.
There's a part of me that is angry with myself, for believing.. well, wanting to believe that us getting back together is a possibility. Of course it is, but...
I don't know anymore.
I don't even want to publish this post. I'm already embarrassed by it. I might not even bother.. I don't know yet.
I think I'll save it as a draft. And maybe re-post it once I make my blog private again.
Yeah.. let's do that.
Or, not.
On a lighter note, check out this wind chime I picked up today for $12 at the flea market. Yes, I did use Jedi mind tricks to get it at that price.
