Examinating Reality

I find myself crossing back over a bridge that has swung and swayed in the Winds of Time. In a land buried beneath the old and dripping with memories. Where the light illuminates forgotten images in a warm glow. Here, I am safe. I am happy. I am free. This is my escape. My Utopia. My past.

Okay so this is my "artistic" way of describing the last couple weeks for me. It's been... Great, to say the very least. Living back at home with no homework or deadlines to speak of. No chores, either. Just work--yes, work. Work at a job I simply adore.

But the ghosts of the past seem to always rear their ugly head no matter how far away one tries to run from them. The attitudes, the drama, the back-stabbing... All I could do without and thought I had left behind in high school.

Am I wrong?

I shouldn't have to tell you I'm mad at you. I shouldn't have to whine to my best friend about how bad I feel after finding out what you said about me behind my back. I shouldn't be so angry with you that I can't enjoy a weekly tradition on account of your presence... Right?

If you were my friend--or, rather, because you are my friend--you would have noticed I couldn't even look at you then. You should have noticed I didn't talk to you that night. You should have picked up on the fact that I haven't been answering your texts by now.

I shouldn't have to hide behind my blog because I'm too afraid to tell you how I feel from fear of involving innocent people in this ugly mess. I shouldn't hope and pray you read this. I shouldn't rely on the chance that it causes you to look inside yourself and ask yourself whether or not you're in the wrong.

I wish I were braver.
I wish you were better.
I wish you hadn't hurt me.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.