09
Feb
10

not quite a poem. Not quite a journal entry.

Dreaming. Day dreaming? Night dreaming while awake.

Thinking of walking. Walking hand In hand. That old fashioned sense of romance.

Wishing and hoping. Hoping that things will be different. Wishing for change.

Disappointment blends in.

Disappointment for so many things.

Disappointment that it wasn’t what it was supposed to be.

Disappointment that it is never going to be what it is supposed to be.

Disappointment that I cannot make the changes to make it what it is supposed to be.

Disappointment that I cannot end what it is.

Disappointment that it will end in sadness but won’t end soon.

Disappointment that I made a vow that cannot be undone.

Disappointment that I am so selfish and want what it was supposed to be.

This is a slow, long process.

Back to wishing and hoping.

Wishing and hoping and dreaming.

Thinking of those walks. Walking hand in hand. That old fashioned sense of romance.

Spending time being swoony. Yes, swoony *is* a word and a feeling that I becoming addicted to.

Falling in crush. In lust. In …. Just falling.

Spinning inside my head.

Heart skipping beats.

Skipping rocks at a lake…. Watching him in the sun…. talking… falling…. swooning….

Crushing. Hard to breathe. Hard to speak.

Butterflies.

Tingly sensation.

Cannot concentrate.

I’m busy crushing. But am I crushing him or myself with these feelings?

Does it matter? No.

He sits there. I sit here.

There is no hand holding. There is no old fashioned sense of romance.

Disappointment wanders back in….

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4 Responses to “not quite a poem. Not quite a journal entry.”


  1. 1 Mazura Illani Manshoor
    February 9, 2010 at 9:10 am

    that is beautiful =)


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