Himyp

It's been a while.

School's over now, I just have to focus a bit on the upcoming finals, but eh, no big deal. I haven't yet come around the idea of leaving some things behind. Hell, how could I? I'm still like, 2 months away from knowing the final decision. I could even end up not leaving the country, for all I know. Still, I don't really want to think about the people I have to say goodbye to. Because I know all too much that for most of them, if not all
It'll likely be farewell.
And I have a tough time coming to grips with that reality.
Actually, refusing to think about things too much, trying to delude myself into thinking things won't change, it's classic me I guess, right?
I may have taken giant steps toward my future, toward life even this past year. It was the most awesome, entertaining, important, emotionally exhausting year in my life yet. Gosh, I've even managed to figure out part of what I want my life to be over the very next years. Still deep down, when it comes to translating all the work, the concepts, into actual actions; when it is time for me to make choices, I am still the same worthless coward. Because I was so used of letting life make decisions for me before March 13th, 2013.

You know what Emma? I think these past few days, I may have relapsed. It's bigger, it's more violent, a bit more painful than it usually is. I don't think it is gonna affect my decisions, nor trouble my course of actions nevertheless.
Well, who am I kidding?
It has always been.

Some say there is just one kindred soul for you. You miss your shot with this soul mate, then you're done.
I'm clinging to the idea that I was unlucky to have the luck to meet her at first try. I got to make all kind of silly mistakes, I learned the hard way, so that I would never, ever, do wrong again.
Well, that's for sure it seems
Since I won't be given another shot.

This whole "you're my world" state of mind I built up during our time together has taken quite a toll. It still has consequences, it still hurts. In fact it still hurts pretty bad. I have to cope knowing I am sort of an oversensitive human being, and there's no way to cure that disease. I weep fewer tears, I don't have fewer scars.

When we first met, I knew something was off. I don't say that in retrospect, I'm not trying to relate on hindsight; but at this very moment, when I first saw you leaning towards me with what was, I have to at least acknowledge that, a pretty damn awesome smile; I swear something struck me deep down. It was no cupid's chokehold or whatever. I felt ill-at-ease, a huge chill traveling through my body. I didn't get butterflies in my stomach, it was much more like a voice in my head; and it may seem uncanny - and call that what you want; but I like to name it intuition - but it just felt like the voice was saying "she's gonna screw you". And I didn't listen. And I highly regret it now.

Truth is, I'm scared. I'm scared to be deprived from what I think I deserve. I want to go, because something inside me can't help thinking that going will mean success. And staying will make my whole life a failure.
And I'm freaking out, I'm freaking out to just walk around waiting for an answer that may not even come within the next weeks. And I have nothing to pray to. I'm just in a different place than I was a year back, but still, isn't it the same story? Trying to cling to something without even knowing if it's real? Wasn't that even the truth to our whole story, from the start, Emma?

We built a house of cards. And I got to collect the cards all by myself when you screwed this up. I had to clean the mayhem alone. It made a mess of me you know?
You made a mess of me, and it will never, ever, be undone
You bitch.

Not all stories leave good memories. I just have a bitter taste on my tongue. I just have years wasted behind me, years I won't ever get back. I had my heart wiped out, and it is not fixable; it might never be.
I got served, for I did wrong. But even if I was a crappy boyfriend, all I did was always out of love. True, real love. Just to be thrown away like an old mope. No memory of us is strong enough to land a smile on my face. And every day, instead of forgiving and trying to get closure; I grow angrier, I grow more hateful about you. I went through the common steps of break-ups, and then got lost. And now I'm just stuck into a phase of hatred that doesn't seem to have a ceiling. It's been more than a year, for fuck's sake; why can't I move on with my life already? Why didn't you, that night, deem our story worth a bit more than a fucking and ludicrous phone call. I might not have deserved much, but still, you owed me much more than common courtesy.
And for that, I hate both of us.

Because I wish that night had not been the only time in my life I would not listen to my instincts and instead go with the heart. Because poor dude died in the process. Because you weren't like the others, that's right.
But you were to become much worse.

And that's the story of how I met you, period.

That's true, some stories don't deserve a happy ending, or they just don't get it.
I guess that was the case for us.
But as far as I'm concerned

This ending fucking sucks

Through glass

Je me suis habitué aux choses que j'ai réinjectées dans mon quotidien. J'aime avoir la possibilité de considérer que ma vie n'est plus figée, que je peux construire, démonter, remonter, ajouter, modifier; sans que personne ne vienne la piétiner. Quand je me pose et regarde autour, je réalise que du bon travail a déjà été effectué. 

C'est mieux qu'avant.

C'est carrément mieux qu'avant.

Il y a moins de contradictions, plus de choses utiles; la plus grosse partie de la pollution a été effacée au profit de la diversité. Il ya plus de gens qu'avant. Bien plus. Le soleil brille plus souvent, on s'y amuse bien mieux, on y rigole tout le temps. Alors que la vie était habituée à faire du surplace, à se laisser vieillir, pourir mêmê les plus beaux rêves qu'elle abritaient, elle évolue sans arrêt maintenant, elle change en permanence. Putain, il ne pleut même plus. Les étoiles brillent tellement plus intensément. Et le paysage, il faut voir comme c'est beau. C'est certain, certaines ruelles sont plus sombres, certains gouffres sont plus profonds; mais dans l'ensemble, ça n'a rien à voir avec ce qu'il y avait en lieu et place avant l'ouragan.

Cet ouragon, c'est rétrospectivement la meilleure chose qui pouvait arriver à cette vie.

Mais.

Mais il y a cette atmosphère qui n'est pas parfaite. Cette pièce qui manque pour compléter le puzzle. Ce n'est ni une personne, ni un sentiment. C'est plus la mémoire. La mémoire de ce qui était là avant et qu'on a oublié de reconstruire, dont on a éludé l'existence; omis le caractère essentiel de ce que certaines structures représentaient. 

Les racines.

C'est un fait, j'ai beau chercher les racines, les bases originelles; certaines m'ont échappées. 

T'est partie avec elles. T'es partie avec et j'en ai besoin aujourd'hui; ce qui était à la base une simple manoeuvre d'urgence destinée à m'empêcher de sombrer s'est peu à peu transformé en un vrai projet auquel je me suis attaché, pour lequel j'ai décidé de m'investir, un projet qui évolue toujours avec les gens qui l'entourent, au rythme des moments. 

Ca fait quelques temps que j'ai réalisé que je voulais poursuivre ce projet.

Ca fait quelque temps que j'ai réalisé que j'avais retrouvé le goût de vivre.

Mais j'aurais besoin de récupérer une chose pour ça. La vérité. Pour réussir à protéger ce que j'ai façonné, j'aurais besoin de la vérité qui a mis fin à la vie d'avant. Car tant que je ne connaitrai pas cette vérité

Je ne saurai pas comment faire face aux mêmes mensonges.

Le temps viendra. Le moment arrivera où mon chemin devra recroiser le tien, ne serait-ce que pour une heure. Je n'ai aucune intention de t'inviter dans cette vie, je veux juste récupérer ce que je mérite, ce que je pense avoir gagné malgré tout. Si ce n'est pas toi qui viens, alors je finirai par m'en occuper; si ce besoin ne disparait pas en fumée un jour sans prévenir.

Un peu comme toi.

J'ai envie de cette vie, je n'ai pas peur de détruire ce qui reste de l'ancienne pour continuer à avancer dans celle là.

It's about time I brought my life back.

I'm looking at you through the glass, don't know how much time has passed 

Oh god it feels like forever, but no one ever tells you that

Forever feels like home

Sitting alone inside your head